Spreading the Fire
by bballgirl32
Summary: Comes after my previous fic, Eyes Like the Ocean. If you've read the first two, you know what it's about. Finnick and Katniss because they interact the most throughout the story, but real Finnick/Annie C.
1. The Quell

**This is the last fic in a trilogy, and it will have huge plot holes if you haven't read Fishing for People, or Eyes Like the Ocean. So, if this looks totally awesome and you don't want to feel left out, rush on over back the the page that you were just on, and please read them. **

**Now that that's finished, I have a few things. First, this whole thing is going to be entirely taken from Catching Fire and Mockingjay. All of the information is supposed to be right, but sometimes I misunderstand things, so if that happens, please tell me, and if whatever I type is factually wrong, then I will change it. Second, that last rule I just type goes out of effect during their mission to assinate Snow in Mockingjay, where I already admit Finnick won't die. Just incase anyone really likes that scene or something, and doesn't want to read this now. Third, I'll admit, that it is harder conforming my ideas around what Suzanne Collins already wrote, and what readers already have strong opinions about. I'd love to hear your opinions on how I'm doing, but please bear with me if some scenes may not seem quite right, because I may not quite be able to guess what Finnick is truly thinking or why he's saying things. It's just my best shot, and I'm begging you to respect that. Finally, this is no longer a Finnick/Annie story, although there will be a lot of that in the later chapters, when they're together in the Mockingjay half of the story. But until then, please don't be disappointed by the few times they interact. **

**That should be just about it. I hope you enjoy the final installment in my Finnick trilogy thing, and I hope you enjoy. **

**Oh, and I don't own any of this, at all. And this is for the whole story, because I tend to forget to put it in most of mine at all. I'll actually have to get around to that for some of them... Whatever. Enjoy. **

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**Annie sits cross-legged in front of my while I tie knots in her hair, only keeping half an eye on the television screen. Daisy and Annie are both watching whole-heartedly, oohing at dresses they like. Quite frankly, I think it's kind of annoying. I know that I was big on Katniss, and I still am. But really, that fake romance is getting old fast. Now, our genius president is forcing every district in Panem to watch a seventeen year old girl try on dresses for a wedding that she was no doubt forced into.

For the past six months, Haymitch has been telling me everything Katniss has been saying and doing, as well as giving information on the Districts that are too far away for me to learn about. In exchange, I've imparted things that I learned on my last trip to the Capitol, right before Katniss and Peeta's victory tour, as well as giving him information on the Districts near 4. Well, and my district itself. Only a couple months ago, I'd taken to frequently visiting one of the centers where some of the Careers go to work out, and roaming around the more poor sections of the district, finding recruits. Most of the other victors had as well, and the word spread like wildfire.

About a month after that, the uprising came, and it went very quietly. Ever since Snow gave me my job, it seems like the number of peace keepers in the district has swelled immensely, no doubt because he knew that his actions could backfire if I ratted him out and people decided to do something about it. Because of that, tens of thousands of the white cloaked figures appeared immediately and squashed the thing before it started. Not many people died, and even though there was a lockdown for a week, everything is already back to normal.

Or so it seems. I can still feel the anger pulsing through my district, and I can feel the hope that the girl on fire's little stunt with the berries gave them.

"Oh, that one's so pretty," Daisy says, her eyes going wide when Katniss, who's now more or less her idol, appears on screen in another dress that to me, looks exactly the same as the ones she'd already tried on. Besides, I don't think it's pretty at all. Katniss doesn't do dresses, not wedding dresses anyway. She's too… scary. It doesn't look right.

My eyes drift down to Annie and I smile. She'd be perfect in a wedding dress, amazing and beautiful. And now, with Katniss here and the rebellion starting, maybe, just maybe, I will have a chance to actually marry her. That would more than compensate for having to watch the girl on fire day and night, hearing about every minute detail of her life.

"Let's get Katniss Everdeen to her wedding in style!" Caesar Flickerman booms eventually, and I let loose a sigh of relief.

"Thank God. I was about ready to keel over," I say, picking up the remote to turn off the television. Annie turns around, no doubt to scold me, but Caesar doesn't give her time to speak. He says to stay tuned for another big event.

"That's right," he explains. "This year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, and that means it's time for our third Quarter Quell!"

"What the hell?" I mutter. Annie and Daisy look at me with questions in their eyes, but I have no answers. So we listen and wait. President Snow himself struts onto the stage with a small boy dressed in a while suit trails behind him, a wooden box in his hands. The old man drones on and one about a bunch of crap that no one cares about, and then he runs out of wind after telling us what the first two Quells were.

"And now," he concludes, "we honor our third Quarter Quell." The little boy steps forward and opens the box. It's filled with yellow envelopes, which I'm guessing will say what special twist will be in store this Quell. By the looks of it, whoever made the cards expects the Games to be going for a long, long time.

Snow grabs a card marked with a '75', then clears his throat.

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

Before I can even comprehend what he said, Annie's wails start ringing through the house. That's when it dawns on me.

Someone's going back. There are six males, four females that have won in our district. The odds are not in either of our favors. My heart sinks, and I have trouble concentrated, especially with Annie's wails in the background. It's nearly impossible to think coherently, and my head hurts from even trying.

"Annie," I finally whisper, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You aren't going back. I won't let you go back."

"He'll make me," she says, her teary eyes turning wild like they haven't for over a year. I can't do this now, I'm in no position to comfort hurt. My head is in a fog, and yet fresh dread settles in my stomach.

"No, you won't go in," I insist again, my voice breaking just slightly before I can finish.

"F-Finnick." I turn to look at Daisy, who I'd forgotten was there. She's watching me with wide, scared eyes, and I can see that she's trying not to cry.

"It'll be okay. There's no guarantee that I'm going to go," I say, again, trying to be comforting. But my voice is too hollow, and I'm sure that my fear is etched plainly across my face.

Thoughts come flying back into my mind, things that if they haven't completely left my memory, had at least been hiding out in the back of my head. Images of Titus flash before my eyes, or Arowana on her deathbed, and that girl from Seven with her wild red hair, an axe in her hand, ready to kill me… I shake my head furiously. Thinking like that won't work. Hell, I may not even go back. There's only a one in six chance that I'll have to return. And Annie won't have to either, not if luck is with us.

Yeah, and when has that ever happened?

I sit there and hold Annie, telling her again and again that she's going to be okay. Just minutes later, her parents are in the house, and they're holding her too. Daisy sits off to the said, muttering under her breath, and when I listen more closely, I figure out that she's actually praying.

"You know, Daisy. If there's a God, he kind of hates me. I wouldn't be asking him for help with this." She glares at me.

"Whenever something bad happens in your life, it's only to make you stronger." And with that, she bows her head again and resumes her mutter.

Watching her, I manage to find a very, very small silver lining to this. At least she won't have a chance at getting chosen this year, which she would have otherwise. But when I look towards Annie again, and when I think about going back myself, a very selfish part of me would rather have her be in danger than us. Not that I don't love my sister, but she'd be one in a million. The chance of her getting selected would be slim to none. But with Annie and I, well, I suppose it could get worse. Barely.

For the rest of the night, we sit there and try not to think of future possibilities. But by the next morning, the news has sunk in. My brain starts really thinking clearly again, and I start to realize a few things.

One- There is a very good chance, with Snow's opinion of me, and his knowledge of my hatred for him, that I will go back to the arena.

Two- That Katniss Everdeen, the girl whose already gotten several of the districts to rebel, is the only female victor from District 12. There's a good chance that the unknowing leader of the districts will soon be dead, if Snow can help it. Actually, I'm more than convinced that Snow probably had this whole idea staged as an idea to get rid of her for that one moment of brilliance where she got out the berries and lit the fire that had gotten the districts going.

Three- That if she's going in, the Gamemakers probably have specific orders to not allow her to make it back out.

And finally, Four- That I care more about this rebellion continuing than any fear I have of the Games. The other male victors are too old to really be much good, and Felix is the only one that I absolutely know is with us. Sure, the other ones did help slightly with organizing it in Four, and we've been including them in our plans, but I don't know them, and I don't trust them. So, if I'd really want Katniss to stay alive, then I would volunteer to go back and protect her.

Of course, that's kind of hypothetical, because I'm sure I won't get a chance to volunteer. Hell, if I know Snow, he'd probably make sure that every slip of paper in there has my name on it, just so I don't get any ideas about revealing just exactly why I've been sleeping with anything in the Capitol that moves for the last eight years.

I don't do that now, because not only do I really not feel comfortable sharing that little secret, but also because of Annie. But say that Snow instead sends her to the Games, and leaves me home. Say that she dies there. Or say that she goes into hiding, out of his reach. Then, I'd be free to say what I wanted, if I could work up the courage.

So I highly doubt that he's going to give me that chance. I'll be going back, almost doubtlessly, because even if by some miracle my name isn't drawn, I know that my life is less important than the Mockingjay's. I trust myself to protect her, and I know now that even if I die doing it, the districts would be better off.

Somehow, that acceptance, the realization helps me relax. I'm going back. Now, there's no fear. There's just that feeling, that adrenaline that makes me want to throw up, or maybe slit my throat. My grip on Annie gets just a little bit tighter, because when I think about it, some part of me is always going to want to return to the simplicity of the arena.

Wait, there is fear. As my brain continues to process the situation, the fear gets stronger and stronger. Not for myself, but for the people who could go into the arena with me. Johanna will, that's positive. She's the only female from Seven. My gut tightens again. Then I worry that even if Annie's name doesn't get drawn that Mags' will. She's over eighty now, and can barely walk. I know that something's going on inside her head as well, because her thoughts don't quite come as quickly than they used to, and her speech is garbled enough that I have to ask her to repeat every other thing she says. And she may get thrown into the arena. Then there's Haymitch. And Chastity. Chaff. All of them.

That's when I realize that no matter who gets picked, I can't just sit back and kill off all my friends for Katniss Everdeen. I know she's important, but even though I know I can kill someone who's a threat without batting an eye, I also realize that killing people who I know and trust will be impossible. This won't work. Something else needs to happen, something that will keep us all alive.

But what?

I take a deep breath. I don't know. Maybe I'll get lucky and it'll just be Johanna and me that go in. It's callous, but she won't care if she dies or not. She has no one, and I have a feeling that she's been living a kind of half-life since her mother was killed, but her feelings are so hard to actually make out that I'm just guessing. Then me, of course. I do have people to live for, and I don't want to know what Annie will do if I die.

I close my eyes. Take another deep breath.

Then I open them.

I'm a rebel. All of the people I worry about are rebels. And since when do rebels, leaders among the rebels, sit back and let someone else decide when they're going to die? No, no way in hell is snow going to throw me through his Games again. This time, his prized tribute, the golden boy, his lovely little servant who never held out any berries, who did promotional adds for the Games when he was asked, who smiled, and flirted, and laughed as his life was destroyed, isn't going to roll over and play dead. I'm through laughing, through running.

Right now, I know that Annie has protection. There are rebels, and if Snow comes and tries to kill her, people will stand against his people. They've fought once, and I can still feel the anger everywhere I go. Now, nothing is holding me back.

And if Snow thinks that I'm going to sit around and play nice while he throws me into an arena with people I care about, if he thinks that I'm going to be good Finnick and start going crazy with my trident as soon as I'm back inside the arena, well, then I have news for him.

I'm going to survive these Games, and so are as many people as possible. Because no matter what it takes, these Games are going to be different. I'll make sure of it.

"Annie," I whisper softly in her air. She turns to face me, and I feel sick at her tear-stained face, the dark circles under her eyes.

"I'm scared," she says.

"You don't have to be," I breath in her ear, hiding my lips with her hair. "I'll protect you."

She looks at me worriedly.

"They'll kill you." I shake my head, then gently let her go.

"No, they won't. Now I have to talk to Mags about this. 'Kay?" She nods very quietly, slowly getting up and going to sit with her father, whose been staring right at her every time I look at him. I know that he's probably pissed off, seeing me holding her and everything, because despite good first impressions, him and his wife are now convinced that I'm the devil incarnate, sent to earth to torture their daughter, but Annie has spent the last year begging and pleading my case as well as she can with all the incriminating evidence that suggests that I'm a cheating man-whore.

But right now, I don't care about his opinion of me. He'll take care of her while I visit Mags. That's what Annie needs, and he'll do it. So I give her a the best smile I can muster, and then leave to talk to Mags.

"Hey, Mags," I shout when I walk into the house. She's sitting at the table, clutching a cup of tea with wrinkled fingers.

"You heard?" she asks. I nod.

"I heard. You know, it's actually kind of upsetting. I was wondering if you'd like to go on a hike. I'll carry you, obviously, but I need some space to think freely."

"No," she says. Then, reaching into her pocket, she pulls out a letter. "From a friend in the Capitol. It'll help." She gives me a sad grin, then turns back to her tea.

"Thanks," I mutter, staring at the blank letter intently.

Not wanting to seem rude and eager to leave, I hesitate, but she snorts and waves me away. I grab the letter and hustle outside, then take off in a dead sprint down the sandy beach behind our houses, until I come to very familiar craggy rocks. Getting up the first one with a big leap, I quickly scale the next few until they even out into the steep path that I haven't walked for a very long time.

Memories flood my head, and I find my anger starting to grow. I think of Borglum, remember from back when he was mentoring Arowana up until he was shot. Then Eliza, who'd been my best friend until I showed up as me cheating asshole self and basically ruined that. Then I think of her dying, slowly and painfully.

They were both so alive, so there… then so gone.

My foot finds a rock and I send it flying, the same urge to kill Snow that I've felt for the last eight years flaring up like it does when I think of those things. But then I'm at the cave, surprisingly quickly with no one else to wait for.

I go in and sit, taking out the letter. I know that I didn't need to come here, but it's more peaceful, more quiet than anywhere else, and I know that there won't be any cameras zooming in on the thing from over my shoulder.

When I unfold the stiff paper, decorated with the seal of the Capitol, I'm nervous. My gaze skips directly to the bottom, and when I see who it's from, I relax again. Heavensbee. Perfect. I eagerly start to read it.

_Dear Finnick, _

_As I'm sure that you've heard, President Snow has announced the conditions for the Quarter Quell. It truly is devastating, with everything finally turning out so well in the war. But I also have an idea that can turn this entire thing into an advantage for us. _

_If you have not heard, Seneca Crane was murdered as punishment for allowing Katniss Everdeen to humiliate the Capitol. In response to this, I volunteered for the position of Head Gamemaker, and I have a lot planned for this Games. _

_Do not for a second think that I'll be able to get everyone out worry free, I don't mean to get your hopes up like that. No, I have to do my job very convincingly, and you'll still have to fight, but I plan on getting the knowingly rebelling Districts together and working out plans with them that I've already started. _

_I have several people who'll deliver you messages, and several ways that will allow you to communicate with the others involved in this plan. _

_You will learn more as I correspond with the other victors, as well as I learn more about the details of the Quell. _

_I wish you luck, and do pray that the odds will be ever in your favor. Thank you for listening, Finnick, and someone else will write to you soon, along with instructions on how to reply and relay information. _

_Now, unless you wish serious harm to befall all of us, destroy this letter. When it is safely disposed of, I suggest that you use your time wisely. Even you could be doing things to be getting ready for the Games, no matter how firmly you think otherwise. I'm already confident that you have enough faith in the rebels that you will be entering the arena, as I am planning for. You would help us there more so than if you were a mentor. I apologize for being so callous, but you must understand the importance of your presence in the arena. _

_I have no written enough. All that I ask is that you train hard, and make sure to discuss this with the other victors that you completely and utterly trust. _

_Thank you for your time. _

_Sincerely, P.H. _

I smile as I set the letter down on a rock in front of me. It's now becoming clear that I'm not the only one who's going to make these Games hell for the Capitol.

The fear lessens again as the anticipation grows.

The Seventy Fifth Hunger Games are only months away, and two dozen victors are returning to the Capitol. And right now, a number of those victors are going to make sure that it's a choice Snow's going to regret for the rest of his life.


	2. Planning Their Downfall

**A/N- Okay, everyone has seriously shocked me with their amazing reviews. I don't think that I've ever had so many nice things said about any one of my stories, like ever. Thank you so much to everyone who's already favorited the story, and especially to those who have reviewed. **

**Now, just one quick little comment. This chapter may seem to be going a little fast, but most of this chapter is catching up on rebel activity, and then a little bit that leads into the next chapter, hopefully. This also contains my first Finnick/Katniss talk, and I'd like to hear what you think about how I pulled it off. **

**Alright, I'm done babbling. Please enjoy. **

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Over the next few months, I get letters, mostly from Haymitch and Heavensbee, but there were a few from Johanna, one from Chaff. As time passed, instead of just knowing there was a plan, the details took place, and even though what it was saying made me impossibly nervous, I was also thrilled with everything that the details revealed.

First, outside the arena, within that week of training and the interviews, the Victors act friendly, show district unity. It's a little blow, but Snow will be analyzing everything. I myself am actually kind of eager to see what innocent little Katniss Everdeen's opinion of me is, seeing as the only idea she'd have of me is that I'm a Capitol loving piece of filth, and since I'll probably be required to act the part when I'm in the Capitol, she'll get to feel the full force of Finnick Odair's charms.

By the night of the interviews, people are supposed to realize that things are a little different. Then, our interviews we're supposed to make people question the Capitol, create dissent, by saying things that seem innocent and unplanned, but that will have the citizens of the Capitol going crazy. I, for instance, have decided to write a poem in which I pour my heart out to my biggest love in the Capitol. Yeah, it's cheesy, but every female in the crowd will think I'm talking about them, and freak out because I'll die, and they'll never have me. Which is the idea, the not liking what Snow has done. Not only will it put doubts in their head about the president's greatness, but the thing should give the Districts some confidence as well.

After that, in the arena, everything gets more complicated. I'm not exactly sure of everything, hell, they haven't told me hardly anything, but I have the basic gist of the plan. At first, it's easy enough. They want me and one of several possible geniuses from District 3, to team up with Katniss if possible. They aren't worried about her befriending any of the nerds from Three, but almost everyone guesses that she isn't going to trust me, and they need her to.

With Plutarch, we know about the arena, and even though he didn't tell us too much, enough to make our knowledge of the place obvious, he did say that most of it was going to be water. Thinking of that, there was a general consensus that it'd be wise for me to watch her. Haymitch has no idea if she can even swim, and then even if she can, there are a whole lot of other things I can help with, like food. In addition to the arena being filled with water, I'm also the best option. After how decisively I won my Games, everyone agree that I'm the best option to serve as her bodyguard.

So that's easy. I go in, I make sure Katniss doesn't die. Even if it costs me my life, because really, how much of a life do I have if the Mockingjay dies?

Then, things get more complicated. I know that one of those people from Three is going to do something to help us out of the arena, but I haven't gotten any details, and I wouldn't understand them if I did, so I just know that somehow, Plutarch is confident in getting us out.

The exact moment when this is going to happen, when they're going to be ready to pick us up and whisk us off to District Thirteen, is going to be communicated to us through bread our sponsors pay for. The District it comes from is to say the day, the number of rolls the hour. When we get the bread, whoever gets in from Three is going to throw his plan into action, hopefully the rebels will be waiting outside the arena, and then we'll all get away, or hopefully the majority of us anyway. Most importantly, Katniss, or if Peeta goes in, then him too.

Because that's another part of the plan that I'm confused about. Katniss apparently told Haymitch that he's supposed to get Peeta out alive no matter what. So we guess that if he dies, she'll refuse to cooperate. Because of this, if he gets into the arena, I'm not just on protect Katniss duty, but I have to protect her boyfriend/fiancé/guy that she duped, if I want her to stay in an alliance long enough to protect her.

And that's the brilliant plan. Keep those two alive, do something to blow up the arena, and run away to District Thirteen, all with little flashes of rebellion thrown in between.

Yeah, it's shaky, and I don't even know most of the finer details, because all these letters have needed to be hand delivered at a time when communication through the districts has been nearly impossible, so there have only been a few, and even those few have needed miracles to not get intercepted, but I guess Plutarch has ways. And yeah, it's sad, but I'm getting to trust those ways enough that now, standing around at the Reaping, I'm not at all worried about going back.

I'm just scared as hell at the prospect of Annie coming with me.

The mayor, who I still can't look at without intense hate, gives his usual speech on the dark days, and it's funny, because the way he's talking makes it sound like he has no clue that the nation is rebelling, that District 4 already has.

Then the mayor is done, and Alva is making her way to the women's ball, a ridiculously orange wig on her head. She reaches inside, taking a few seconds to get a hand on one of the four slips of paper. Then, she looks directly at me, and I instinctively reach for my belt, where I still store my knife after ten years.

"Annie Cresta," she says, and I can hear the pity in her voice. My hand grips the hilt, but I don't take it out, because killing Alva won't do anything. It's Snow who needs to go down, but at the moment, that's not an option.

So I stand there in numb shock as I watch Annie scream and cry, and not get any closer to the stage. Then Mags gently takes her arm and whispers something, and Annie goes, still shaking and hysterical.

I realize what Mags whispered when she steps up and volunteers herself.

If Annie were to go in, I could protect her easily. She's smart enough and still strong enough that it would have been possible.

But Mags going in is sentencing herself for death.

My throat closes, and I can feel the tears coming, but for the first time in a long time, I'm on required viewing in Panem, and the cameras are going to be all on me in just a few moments, so I take a deep breath and try to look cocky and like a general ass, because that's what the county knows me as. I think that I manage, but no matter how stony my face looks, my insides are crumbling. When I was in shock just seconds ago, Mags's little stunt has gotten my head working again, and not for the better. What has just happened hits me full force, and the moment replays in my mind at warpspeed, and I feel my heart break, and the anger, and the pain flood me in just a matter of seconds. But, because I have to, I bite everything I'm feeling back, and I turn my attention back to the stage.

Alva makes a weak comment about bravery to Mags, then hurriedly runs to the guy's ball, trying to salvage the mood after an eighty year old woman kind of ruined the competitiveness from the female side of the district. She reaches in and grabs the name, and again she looks at me sadly, and when she reads my name, all that I think is at least I don't have to volunteer.

I strut to the stage with a smile on my face, and look out at the watching crowd like I'm thrilled to be back.

And although I'd never admit it to anybody, the adrenaline flowing through my veins tells me that I kind of actually am.

After the Reaping, I expect to go to the Justice Building, and probably just sit with Annie for the hour, to hold her and assure her that I'll make it out alive, and then kiss her goodbye. I don't even get to see her. Peacekeepers load us into a car, and then take us directly to the train station.

"What the hell?" I ask, loudly enough so that the driver of the car can hear.

"New procedure, especially for the Quell," he says uncaringly, like he doesn't realize that I just left Annie, for what may very well be the last time. Even if I make it out, who's to say that she'll get to Thirteen? And that's if I don't die protecting Katniss. Now, I may never see her again.

I didn't even say good-bye.

Mags, like she knows what I'm thinking, takes my hand.

"Don't worry. You will make it back to her."

I just shake my head.

When we load the trains, this time there are no camera crews waiting to eat up my face. I have to wonder about that, but don't complain, because I know that there's no way that my emotions are completely hidden anymore.

The train ride seems short, but that's probably because I've already taken it what seems like hundreds of times. Going to my Games, to mentor, on my 'visits'. Really, it's probably only been thirty or so times, but it still feels like something that I do every day.

Once we're in the Capitol, I head off to my room in the Remake Center without being told, and my prep team is sitting there, already waiting for me. At first, I don't notice anything different, not until the two of them run over and throw their arms around me, crying and sobbing. This isn't good. It took me most of the train ride to pull myself together, and now they're threatening to tear me apart all over again.

"Uh, guys? Are you okay?"

"You're going to die," Hermia cries. I detach myself from the two of them as gently as possible.

"No, I'm not. I survived my first Games when I was fourteen. Now, I'm ten years older, and going against a bunch of old coots," I flinch when I think of Mags, but I really do need to get these two to shut up before they get too annoying. Or make me start thinking about the idea that I really will die. "So despite what you guys think, I'm not going to die."

"But-" I sigh.

"Please, just get to work. I don't want to see you guys crying."

Thankfully they listen to me. Like I'm already painfully used to, they get to work 'taking full advantage of my absolute perfection'. Their words. Not mine.

When my nails are polished, my skin lathered in a plethora of toxic smelling lotions, and my tousled hair combed, then messed up in a more attractive way, they leave to get Sylvia. As soon as she comes in, I can read on her face that something is wrong. I groan, having a good guess at just what it is. Last time when I was here, I was a kid, and kids wear pretty costumes. Now, Snow is more or less my pimp, and it's just like selling a car. You've got to show off the nicer points.

"Snow wants me dressing like I'm acting in a porno, doesn't he?" She nods stiffly.

"You have a reputation to uphold," she says.

"Do your worst. I suppose that there isn't much of me the Capitol hasn't already seen anyway." She gives me a weak laugh.

"I'd love to find something that actually embarrasses you." I shrug. Thinking of Annie's parents, no doubt I will be embarrassed. Just not for the reasons that a person would expect.

"Now, how bad is it, exactly?"

It isn't that horrible. Not that horrible. Nothing unnecessary is showing. I only feel like I'm walking out in front of everybody completely naked, even if you can't technically say that I am.

At least when I walk over to District Seven's chariot to talk with Johanna, a pile of sugar cubes stacked in my hand, she's wearing a tree. I'm not sure which is worse. A fishing net, or… whatever she has on.

"Ah, I see. The year of the incompetent stylists," she says, taking one of the cubes. They're for the horses, but I remember Felix mentioning a kid getting in trouble for stealing them during his Games, so I took a few to see if some attendant would start cussing me out. So far, nothing. They are pretty good, though. "Did you see what they did to Blight? He's got an axe in his head." I laugh, then realize she's not kidding.

"You're serious? I think Haymitch could be a better stylist." She laughs, then shakes her head.

"Yeah, that'd just be wonderful. But I suppose it's better than getting stuck in a fishing net. Although I guess at least you get to look good." I roll my eyes.

"Johanna, haven't you figured out by now that I always look good?" Giving another sigh, she shakes her head.

"I cannot believe you." I smile, then catch a glimpse of someone out of the corner of my eye. When I turn to look at who it is, my eyes widen.

"Shit. I think you spoke too early about incompetent stylists. Katniss looks better than I do, and she's not even half naked."

"Got a crush?"

"Yeah…" I look at her, standing there all by herself, and think of my thoughts earlier, about how fun it'd be to mess with her. "Actually, I think I'm going to go flirt when he fiancé is absent. Maybe get her to meet up with me later."

"Have fun," she calls, and I walk over to where Katniss is standing, nervously sticking to the side of her chariot. I pop another sugar cube into my mouth, and she must hear me, because she turns around at about the same time I'm about to tap her shoulder. I have to grin at the way I can see her words catch in her throat. Throwing another cube in my mouth, I lean back against one of her sleek black horses.

"Hello, Katniss," I purr, using my most 'Capitol' voice.

"Hello, Finnick." She manages to sound casual, but I can see her eyes. She wants to move away, but won't let herself back down.

"Want I sugar cube?" I ask, holding out my hand. "They're supposed to be for the horses, but who cares? They've got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I… well, if we see something sweet, we better grab it quick."

"No thanks," she says. "I'd love to borrow your outfit sometime, though." I have to laugh. I can see why Haymitch is so attached to her. She's got herself a nice touch of his attitude, which is clear in that brilliant display of sarcasm. I have to wonder if she isn't some long lost daughter of his. They even look alike. I want to smile and point this out to her, but Snow wouldn't want me bantering with the Mockingjay. No, he'd be much more happy if I were flirting with her, and actually, I think that'd be more entertaining anyway.

"You're absolutely terrifying me in that getup. What happened to the pretty little-girl dresses?"

"I outgrew them," she says. I can feel her getting more uncomfortable, then figure that I might as well have as much fun with this as possible. I take the collar of her outfit and run it between my fingers, trying not to smile when I feel her quit breathing. "It's too bad about this Quell thing. You could have made out like a bandit in the Capitol. Jewels, money, anything you wanted."

Like she would have. If it wasn't for the Quell, she'd just get killed off some other way, Snow would make sure of that. But I want to hear her reply.

"I don't like jewels, and I have more money than I need. What do you spend all yours on, anyway, Finnick?" she asks.

"Oh, I haven't dealt in anything as common as money for years."

"Then how do you pay for the pleasure of your company?" Ah, if only I had to pay. A hell of a lot better than getting sold. I pretend not to notice what she's implying, knowing that it's what it'd seem like to any outsider. Instead, I lean in slightly closer, feeling her tense up.

"With secrets." Tipping my head forward, so that my lips almost touch hers, I continue. "What about you, girl on fire? Do you have any secrets worth my time?"

If the look in her eyes didn't make me want to laugh, it would have been the blush that was creeping across her cheeks. It's funny, how easily I can get even the girl on fire to become nervous. I don't laugh, though, because that would only ruin the fun.

"No, I'm an open book," she whispers back. "Everybody seems to know my secrets before I know them myself."

How accurate, and a perfect response. That actually gets me to smile.

"Unfortunately, I think that's true." I see someone approaching, and unfortunately notice that her fiancé is coming to ruin my fun. I contemplate staying here to mess with him, but I've seen him in interviews, and he always has perfect control over his words. It wouldn't be nearly as fun as Katniss. "Peeta is coming. Sorry you have to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that much be for you."

Then I toss another sugar cube in my mouth and walk away, thinking that Katniss is probably happy about the wedding getting cancelled, because I doubt that she wanted it in the first place.

Very soon after my conversation with the girl on fire, the first chariot leaves, so I have to hustle to return to mine. Mags is already there waiting for me, and doesn't even look my way when I take my place beside her. By that point, I'm starting to feel immense déjà vu. At first, the styling and everything, was normal, a routine I've been through dozens of times. But getting on the chariot again messes with my head horribly, especially because now it's not Arowana, who was the epitome of youth and beauty, but a woman who's already lived eighty years in a life that most would have given up on before they turned twenty. After all that, you'd think that she'd at least earn a peaceful death, but now, Snow has taken even that away from her.

"Hold my hand," I tell her, not because I don't think she can stay standing, but because thinking about her imminent death is too much, and it seems like maybe if I hang on tightly enough now, then she won't leave me so soon. Stupid, yes, but also the only thing that I know to do.

When the District 4 chariot comes out, there's some cheering, but not like last time. Now, they know me, they're used to me, and Mags' presence probably isn't thrilling to them. No, this time, they want to play with their new toys, which is evident when they start cheering and hollering as the District Twelve chariot appears on the giant screen above us.

Young. Beautiful. Strong. Unlike so many of the other victors who are all but wasting away. Even Mags, who's easily the oldest, is in better shape than the ones who turned to alcohol and drugs to keep them going.

Even I admit that they're better than me. Sure, they don't have my 'absolute perfection', but they also don't have a loaded history, paired with a costume that only weak-minded females wouldn't be put off by.

Throughout the chariot rides, and up into President Snow's speech, all eyes are on them. Even I have trouble looking away. The pair of them are unreal. I don't know what it is, but I think that if I'd see Katniss Everdeen or Peeta Mellark on the street, even with Cinna's clothes, I'd think they were decent looking, nothing special. Admittedly, nothing that could compare to myself.

But together, they're more stunning than I could ever be. They fit each other perfectly. The sweetness in his blue eyes, and the ferocity in her gray ones. His size and strength, her slenderness and speed. Blonde hair and nearly black. Smiles and jokes, glares and sarcastic retorts. Opposites in every way, and yet, it's as if they were made for each other. I can hardly believe that they wouldn't fall in love immediately, but from snippets of what Haymitch had been telling me, apparently she has a thing for her 'cousin' instead. I guess I don't know, and I really don't want to get any deeper into it than I have to.

After Snow's speech, everyone circles the arena one more time, and then we get to return to our floors on the remake center. I notice Johanna get into an elevator with the two of them and smile to myself. Knowing Johanna, that is going to end up being very, very interesting.

"You're sure happy for someone who's going back to hell." I turn around and see Chastity coming up from behind me. My eyes widen in surprise.

"Fancy seeing you here," I tell her, leaning against the wall and smiling flirtatiously for the cameras.

"I'm mentoring," she says. My smile fades just a little when I think of her uncle.

"Mentoring Chaff? I'm sorry. That has to suck." She shrugs.

"It's not like I'm not used to death. If he dies, it'll just be another one." I come to the conclusion that she's taught herself not to love. I can actually see it in her eyes. Before, I'd just thought that she hid her emotions, but now, with one of her family members in such danger, she's completely apathetic. How… strange. But maybe that is a good idea. Despite all the good that comes with loving Annie, there's a hell of a lot of bad as well. I can't change it now, though, so I guess thinking about it is just a waste of time.

"Well, I guess you have a point there. So, have you talked to the girl on fire?" I ask.

"No. I haven't, and I have no interest in doing so." I want to talk to her a little more, just because I do like her. Kind of. But I can tell that she doesn't feel the same way, and some attendants are coming over to us anyway. It's clear that they don't want us to keep talking, so I tell her good-bye and head back towards the elevators.

Mags is waiting up when I get there, and I know that we should be watching recaps of everything, but I'm not interested. I give her the best smile I can manage, then head straight to my room to put on actual clothes. When I'm changed, I go back out to where Mags is sitting and put a hand on her arm.

"I'm getting something to eat. You want me to grab you something too?" I ask softly. She looks back at me, and I can't tell if she's really looking at me or not. It's kind of scary, the far off look in her eyes.

She mumbles something about not being hungry, and I take a shaky breath before walking away, trying not to think about how she isn't really alive anymore anyway.


	3. Training

A/N- Just a quick thank you to all the reviewers. I hope you all enjoy the story. Please tell me any opinions, questions, concerns, etc. Even negative reviews are helpful. Thank you.

* * *

Training starts the next morning, but when I arrive at a few minutes after ten, which was when we were supposed to be there, only eleven or twelve other tributes have even showed up. I find myself wishing that I would have skipped as well when we start and I realize how boring it is. I already know how to fight with almost anything, so I spend the first part of training just wandering around, trying to look like I actually have some purpose in mind. Then I see Katniss messing around at the knot tying station, and figure that having a nice little chat with her might cheer me up.

Sneaking up behind her, I easily finish the knot that it seemed like she'd been working on for a while. It was similar to one that I used everyday when I worked on my dad's boats a million years ago, and I love how the grudging respect in her eyes. Deciding to have even more fun with her, because she's so wary around me, I tie a quick noose and pretend to hang myself, but she just rolls her eyes and walks away.

"Gees, not even a goodbye," I mutter under my breath, trying to hide a smile. She's amusing, I'll give her that. And I also have to give her props for not falling for my amazing charms. A very, very unique girl.

After that, I walk over to the wrestling station, where Johanna's standing completely naked, one of the Capitol helpers waiting to take her on. I smile at her.

"You know, Honey, if you want to get naked and wrestle, you could just ask me."

"You are so annoying here," she hisses at me under her breath. Meaning that she doesn't like my Capitol self very much. I shrug off the comment, because I personally think the look on her face is well worth any bitterness on her part.

"Neither does Katniss. I think she's worried I'm going to make a move on her."

"I wonder why she'd think that," she says sarcastically.

"The question isn't why she'd think it, but why she seems so put off with the prospect. I mean, even you've already ripped off your clothes in a questionable District 7 mating ritual."

"Finnick Odair, keep talking, and I'm going to cut off something very important to you." I hold up my hands innocently.

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving."

"You better be," she growls. I laugh and turn to the attendant ready to wrestle with her, flashing my most devious smile.

"Have fun, she's a feisty one." His eyes sparkle, and Johanna starts screaming at me, but I hurry out of her reach, so she doesn't jump me or something. I'm not quick enough, however, not to hear when she asks for a change in partners.

"Causing trouble?" Cashmere, a girl from District 1, asks me. I think I may have slept with her before, although I'm not positive. If I did, I never got her name, but her face is extremely familiar. Huh. Maybe I should leave. But she doesn't appear to think that I owe her any explanations, or is under a delusion that we're in a relationship, so either I never met her, or she's just not stupid.

"Me? Of course not." She rolls her eyes.

"Yes, of course not. Then why is Johanna Mason looking at you like she wants to murder you?"

"You know, expressions like that lose their amusement when they could be taken quite literally by the end of the week."

"She wouldn't kill you. You're all she has. I can see it in her eyes. You're her whole world."

"I'm everyone's world, aren't I?" I ask dryly, because she makes it sound like I'm everything to Johanna, whereas really, I'm nothing. So we're friends, but it's not some huge dynamic friendship or anything. If I were to die, she'd come to the funeral, but she wouldn't cry. She wouldn't feel a huge loss. It's too hard for Victors to get that close to people unless it's something special, like Annie and me.

"I think you have a point," she says, and now I see that she has exterior motives for talking to me, and I want to leave. "But which one of those girls is your world?"

"Enobaria," I answer, my voice bitter. "I like women who bite." That leaves her gaping, and I quickly duck away before she says anything else.

Looking for sanity, I go to find Mags, then drag her to the edible plants station. I really don't try, but instead sit there and make quiet conversation with Mags, even if she doesn't always speak back. When the guy running the station figures out that we aren't doing anything, he chases us off. I take Mags' hand again and drag her to go to the trident station so I can spend another hour or so relaxing, when I see Katniss at the fishing station. I figure that if I'm going to be allied with her, Mags will be too, so I decide to introduce them.

"Katniss," I purr, leaning in really close to her ear. She jumps about a mile in the air, almost banging her head against mine.

"What?" she snaps, and I can see that she's about to leave again. I gesture to Mags. She looks at us in confusion, and I give my most flirtatious smile.

"She's my latest lady," I say. It's funny, because she actually believes it. Her eyes widen in horror, and I can see that she's trying to say something, but can't think of anything. I shake my head. "A joke."

"Oh." She looks embarrassed. I sigh.

"Katniss, this is Mags. She's the other tribute from my district." Her eyes widen in recognition, and I don't miss the approving look that she gives her. I wonder if it's because she volunteered for Annie. I remember Katniss doing the same for her sister, and just thinking about that has me squeezing Mags' hand.

"Nice to meet you," she says, seemingly sincerely. I start to leave, but Mags stops me.

"Stay." So I do, basically just reclining on the ground and closing my eyes while Mags and Katniss work together on the fishhooks.

When Katniss finally gets done and leaves, I decide that Mags looks tired, and that I've done enough for one day anyway, so Mags and I start to leave but just before we're out the door, I hear murmuring and turn around to see Katniss at the archery station. She's hitting the dummies that I struggled with easily enough that her eyes are glazing over with boredom. I pull Mags to a stop.

"I want to watch this," I whisper, and she nods, because no doubt she wants to see just how good this girl is. I saw a lot of her skills last year during her Games, and I'm interested in seeing just how good she really is.

After another minute of hitting stationary targets, the guy at the station starts launching fake birds for her to hit. I watch in awe as she takes down bird after bird, even as he increases the numbers he throws up. I think everyone else turns to watch too, because suddenly everything gets very quiet. Katniss doesn't seem to notice, though, and just keeps hitting them with amazing speed and accuracy. I realize that she's starting to scare me, because it would be so easy for her to just hide up in some tree and snipe everyone down before I even got a chance to make an alliance, and that's not a good thing. I don't want to die at the end of one of those arrows.

Eventually, she takes down five of the birds at once, and she finally seems to realize that people are watching her. Glancing around at all the staring victors, she lowers her bow and quickly walks off, but I still keep staring, completely memorized. I know I've seen her kill before, but it astounds me how such a sweet little girl can be so fierce.

The hell with her being the Mockingjay, I'd want her as an ally anyway.

The next day, I find Katniss almost immediately, deciding that it would be intelligent to spend more time around her, get her to realize that I respect her and open up her mind to the possibility that I could be a valuable ally.

"Finnick," she says when I walk over to her, her face twisting unpleasantly. I pretend not to notice and take another step closer.

"That was impressive shooting yesterday, girl on fire."

"Are you trying to flirt with me?" I smile at her.

"I wouldn't want Peeta to kill me now, would I? No, I have enough company, although I won't be opposed to entertaining you later on-" It takes everything I have not to break down laughing at the way she's looking at me.

"Finnick-"

"Calm down. Right now, all I'm asking is that you teach me how to shoot a bow."

"And what do I get from it?"

"I'll teach you how to be as amazing with a trident as I am."

"Deal."

So for the rest of that morning, I work with her. Or try to. In all reality, she drives me insane. She isn't exactly a whiz with a trident, and there are multiple times when I'm inches away from getting impaled. It's even worse, because she gets pissed when she's not good at something, and by the time the hour of trident lessons are up, she's not in the best of moods.

That, of course, makes my archery lessons hell. By the end of the first half hour, I've been called an incompetent pretty boy four times. After I get the hang of it, she gets better, but I find myself pitying poor Peeta. He must be really lovesick if he actually wants to marry her. I'd be surprised if she hadn't stabbed him with a kitchen knife before their first anniversary.

Speaking of Peeta, after I finally manage to shake his little Mockingjay, I decide to go have a chat with him while he's chucking spears.

"Nice fiancé you have there," I say, walking up behind him. "Mind if I borrow her?" He turns around to face me, then smiles when he sees who it is. I try not to smile back. At least someone is smart enough to see a joke when they hear it. Maybe if this does all turn out, Katniss will be around him long enough to learn from him.

"Oh, no. If she's okay with it, go ahead." I smile, picking up a spear and turning it around in my hands. I got my first kill ever with a spear. Ah, the joyful memories.

"Well, in that case, I think you can have her. I already asked once, and she turned me down very harshly. It hurt, deep down."

"I'm sure, Finnick," he said, whipping a spear at a dummy with such force that I find myself surprised. He looks like such a powder puff that him showing any strength whatsoever is surprising.

"It did. The pain of rejection is new to me. I'm not used to it." He snorts, and I can see in his eyes that he knows what Katniss is doing with him. In all reality, he's had her rejection of him rubbed in his face for the past year, and he has to live pretended that she's as in love with him as he is with her.

"Well, I suppose that there's a first time for everything." I smile at him. He's more amusing than Katniss, and it's better because his amusing is in a good way. Not in her 'I hate you' kind of way.

"If you insist, although I'm not giving up yet. I'd keep a close eye on her if I were you, Peeta." He smiles good-naturedly.

"Just watch yourself."

"With those arrows of hers, I'd better." I notice her start walking over from the corner of my eye. "Well, your love approaches. I'll leave you two alone."

Then I walk away, giving Katniss my most charming smile while I walk past her.

The next day, it's time for our training sessions. I really don't care about my score, because people know how lethal I can get, so I don't worry too much about not having any idea what I'm going to do. I end up just walking in there, grabbing a trident, and repeatedly stabbing a dummy with it, again and again. Really, it's not half as impressive as the show I put on when I was fourteen, but I'm not trying to win sponsors now, and very little will impress the Gamemakers in the way of my trident skills. I even see Plutarch give me a tired look, so I figure that just killing the one dummy until it was unrecognizable was good enough, and that he probably wants me to leave. I kick it a couple times for good measure, then wait for the Gamemakers to dismiss me. When they say I can go, I retreat back to my room to just relax during one of my last free days before I have to go to the arena.

That night, when Mags and I are watching the replays of the scores, I'm mildly surprised to see that I actually got another eleven, like I had in my first year.

"I guess they liked the show of violence," I mutter, but looking at the other scores as they flash across the screen, it seems more biased than anything. The crowd favorites all get high scores, like Johanna's eleven, where the talented tributes that no one likes get lower scores. I remember Beetee and the way that he shocked the rest of the tributes in his Games, and have no idea how his score could be as low as a five. But it's just a game of favorites.

Then I see Katniss and Peeta, and the twelves they both pulled and I'm almost sure that my theory is confirmed. But something tugs at me. Peeta isn't that impressive. They wouldn't just automatically give him a twelve unless he could do something amazing. So that leaves another option. The two of them planned something stupid, and Snow wanted to draw targets on their backs. Huh. Again, I find myself more and more impressed with those two. Maybe they aren't the disturbingly annoying lovers that they're portrayed as. In fact, the two of them are starting to grow on me.

I guess it's a good thing that we'll have plenty of time to become friends later on, isn't it?

I laugh at the thought of Katniss becoming actual friends with me. The moment that I convince her I'm more than just a sex symbol will be the moment that hell freezes over.

But at least I'll probably get many more chances to bug the hell out of her, which is more amusing than friendship, in her case anyway.


	4. My Only Love

A/N- Apologies for the relative lack of length, but it seemed like a good stopping point, so, I just ended it there. I hope you enjoy it, and please tell me what you think. Thank you.

* * *

The next day, I basically just sit around. Felix came to mentor us, but that was only really to send us things in the arena. Now, the day that we're supposed to be training for the interviews, we're left to do nothing. Or almost nothing. Early that morning, I get up and grab a sheet of paper. Then I scribble down a halfhearted poem that I know is going to be good enough, because I could probably burst into song and they'd fall in love with me. That's sad, because anyone who's heard me sing knows that I'm definitely no Katniss Everdeen. The only reason that the birds would stop chirping if I picked up a tune would be because they dropped dead.

So, a sappy poem is all that I need to do my little part in the ceremony, and that doesn't take me a full hour to write. After that, I sit with Mags. Neither of us say anything because there's nothing that can be said. In two days, we'll be back in the arena. There's that traitorous part of me that's always been eager to return to the place where I rule, that little part of the world that seems to be made specifically for me, but most of me, the part that I'm in control of, is dreading the entire thing. Mags will more likely than not, die. I could die. It's not something to be excited for, no matter how much my subconscious disagrees.

Then I also have to worry about losing myself in the Games again. I know that there's no one I really like in there, no one who's death would completely devastate me, except perhaps Katniss', but that'd just be because of the rebel cause. Not because of any attachment to her. And that's what set me off the first time, losing Arowana. So I should be able to stay in control the entire time, but I'm worried that I won't be able to. What if I do turn into a thoughtless, psychopathic killing machine again? What if it ends up being me that kills Katniss?

"It does no good to cross bridges before you reach them," Mags says. It's hard to understand, but a moment of her old insight does help stop my thoughts from continuing down the dangerous road they were on.

"You're right, sorry," I mutter. The silence falls again, and isn't broken until that night. Then I gently kiss her forehead and return to my room. Tomorrow will be the interviews, and then it'll be time to return to the arena. I need rest.

Silvia is happier the next day, I can tell.

"It was humiliating," she says to me almost right away. "I had so many ideas for you, but I had to go along with the president's wishes. Then seeing those two from District 12. Cinna and I used to attend the same design school, oh, I'm sure you've never heard of it, but we always tried to best each other. He got a freebee that time, what with my hands tied."

"I don't know if you could've beat him anyway," I say. "He was brilliant with the fire." She shakes her head.

"He was brilliant, I'll give him that, but he didn't have you. I had such ideas…" she trails off and looks at me. "I'm sorry, that probably seems trivial to you." I'm impressed with that little stroke of empathy. I didn't think that people from the Capitol, even ones like her who weren't totally obnoxious, had the ability to see things through another's eyes.

"Nah, it's fine. It… distracts me." She studies me with her silver eyes, eyes that are too shimmery to be real. It's kind of disconcerting.

"If you insist." Then she goes off babbling about how she wanted to do some kind of fish warrior thing that she learned about in old story books that she has from District 4. I'm not exactly interested, especially because it's too late now, but I have a feeling that after my comment before, she's just trying to take my mind off of things, and it's working. As she finishes the final touches on my outfit, which is just a simple pair of black pants and a shirt the color of my eyes, she concludes that if she would have done what she wanted to, people would be talking about me instead of Katniss and Peeta.

I want to make a comment about how I want people to be talking about Katniss, because she's so important to the rebellion, but that'd just get my head cut off after she turned me in, so I just nod along until she lets me go.

When I get there, a few of the other tributes, including Johanna, are talking off the stage. I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her waist.

"Guess who?" She elbows my gut.

"The only guy in the Capitol dumb enough to try flirting with me." I laugh.

"Would you expect anything different?"

"Unfortunately, no. Not right now, anyway." I kind of cringe at that. I know that she hates the way that I have to change when I'm under even the smallest public scrutiny. But what worries me is when I think about it, I'm not quite sure if I'd even stop messing with her if I didn't have to. My personalities have gotten so mixed up in all this acting and pretending that I'm not sure who I am anymore. I remember before my Games, realize that I did joke and flirt a lot, all of it just for fun. But is that still who I am? I see Johanna's annoyance and smile just a little bit.

Yeah, I think it is. At least a little part of me. Maybe not as big as it is for the Capitol, but I think it'd be there anyway, even if no one was watching.

"Well, maybe-" I start to crack a joke, but then I see Katniss and Peeta approaching. My voice trails off.

She's in her wedding dress. Thick silk, studded with pearls. It's horrible. There'll never be a wedding, hell, she never wanted a wedding, but she's wearing the dress anyway. It's sick and disgusting and everything in between. Apparently everyone else agrees, because suddenly it's awkwardly silent. I've never been one for awkwardness, so I say the first thing I can think of, even if it isn't exactly polite.

"I can't believe Cinna put you in that thing."

"He didn't have any choice. President Snow made him," she says defensively. Well, I guess it makes since that Snow would do that. Just to prove that he can.

"Well, you look ridiculous," Cashmere says, which is worse than my comment, and I can see that Katniss is kind of pissed. I don't blame her. It isn't like she had any choice in the matter. I give her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as I leave to take my place on the stage.

I'm surprised when Cashmere actually starts the dissent, because she didn't even know about the plan, but I guess it makes sense because you don't have to be a rebel to feel betrayed by Snow. She starts talking about how she can't stop crying when she things about how devastated the people in the Capitol will be when they lose us, then her brother goes on about how much he appreciated the kindness that they showed to him and Cashmere.

Sure, the tributes from 2 are both typically heartless, but then Beetee starts questioning the legality of the Quell in his interview, and then it's Mags' turn. She doesn't say much, but does thank the citizens for being so kind to her for so many years. Then I'm up, and I'm relaxed and smiling because no matter what Snow thinks, these people having been mine for ten years, and I have nearly every single one of them under my thumb.

"Finnick Odair, headed back to the Games," Caesar says when I walk up. "I think that everyone still remembers the last time that you set foot in an arena. No one has won their Games so easily, so convincingly since." I give them a sad smile.

"Of course not. I mean, no one else has had so much support from all of the amazing citizens of the Capitol. I couldn't have won without all of their hard work to get me back home, and I don't think that I'll ever forget how much love that they showed me."

"It'd be hard not to help someone like you, Finnick. Such a brave boy, competing so strongly in the Games at age fourteen. Now, ten years later, so much has changed, but I think it's safe to say that the entire Capitol still loves you." I smile.

"Thank you Caesar. And I just want to make sure that everyone knows that I still love the Capitol…" I trail off uncertainly, but then raise my eyes, like I found new confidence. "In- in fact there's one person out there, someone that I really and truly love, with my entire heart. And if you don't mind, I would like to read a little something that I wrote for them."

There are gasps from the crowd, hundreds of girls and women looking up hopefully, sure that I'm talking about them.

"Of course, Finnick. Go ahead." I take the crumbled piece of paper out of my pocket and look towards the crowd, reciting the lines as passionately as I can manage, although even to me my voice sounds somewhat hollow.

"Her loveliness fills my waking hours,

And her tender arms haunt my troubled dreams.

Her voice is a fountain of the sweetest waters,

And her breath, the kiss of angels.

The tone of her skin, the scent of her hair,

The color of her eyes, and the softness of her careless touch,

All are memories etched into my soul.

Now, knocking on death's door, she must, she needs to know.

I love her."

It takes everything I have not to break down laughing when I see girls actually collapsing on the ground. They're fainting! I never actually realized that I was _that _good. It's more than extremely amusing.

"That, that was touching, Finnick," Caesar says. I run a hand through my hair and make it look like I'm forcing a sad smile.

"Thank you. I- I just know that I've made mistakes in my past, and haven't always been faithful, but that there is someone out there, someone who I love more than anything, and will never forget." I see another couple women drop, and am nearly crying trying to hold in my laughter. Thankfully, the buzzer sounds and I'm finished.

There are several more interviews after mine that get the crowd into a tizzy. Johanna has a good one, and Cecilia's is also memorable, with her talking about her two children who may very soon have no mother. The two from District 11 are both very good as well, Seeder asking that if Snow is all powerful, why doesn't he change the Quell? Then Chaff, who's finally sober for once, insists that Snow can change it, but he must not think that it matters much to anyone.

Then, it's Katniss' turn, and by that time, so many people are weeping and screaming for change, that the sight of her in that dress pushes them over some invisible line. The screams are louder, more desperate, the weeping much more forceful. For the longest time, Caesar can't control the crowd. I find the minutes ticking away, and I wonder if she'll even get to speak.

Then, finally they shut up long enough for him to get a word in.

"So, Katniss, obviously this is a very emotional night for everyone. Is there anything you'd like to say?" It seems like everything goes quiet as they wait for her to speak.

"Only that I'm sorry you won't get to be at my wedding… but I'm glad you at least get to see me in my dress. Isn't it just… the most beautiful thing?" Then she starts twirling, raising the sleeves above her head. I stifle a gasp as I watch it start on fire, watch her start burning. At first I worry, then I realize that it was planned, it had to have been. Cinna, who I know to be a rebel as done something under Snow's nose.

Then, the burning stops and the smoke clears.

And Katniss Everdeen is the Mockingjay.


	5. Thee Ideal Arena

A/N- Other than the usual thanks, the only thing of somewhat importance that I have to say is that I'm editing the majority of Eyes Like the Ocean at the moment. Obviously nothing obvious, but I know the story was kind of broken up in places, and that it has quite a few typos and some bad grammar, and I'm going through and fixing that. Not that rereading it is necessary, but I'll just say it may be more enjoyable after I get up the altered version in a few weeks. Other than that, just enjoy, and as always, please review. Thank you.

* * *

I actually sleep relatively well that night, although I dream of Annie most of the time. I think of when I proposed to her, my head skipping over the consequences of that stunt and going back to the look in her eyes, the feeling of absolute joy. When I wake up, my heart almost breaks when I wonder if I'll ever get that chance. It's even more horrible because I can't stop thinking about how jealous I am of Katniss and Peeta because everything worked out so well for them, they were actually required to get married.

It's dumb, but I kind of hate Katniss for not actually loving him. It's wasteful and sickening.

Thankfully I'm not able to focus on that for too long, because someone starts pounding on my door.

"Calm down, Sylvia," I shout, "I'm coming."

Only when I open my door, a somewhat amused Haymitch is standing there.

"Sylvia one of your friends?" I snort.

"My stylist. And I don't even want to know how you got in here."

"Mags," he says quickly. Then, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bracelet with flames on it.

"Take this."

"Um, why?"

"Because, I've gone through the pain of getting it cleared as a token, so I'll be pissed off it you don't." I take it and study it more closely.

"There's a reason for everything that you do."

"Yeah, there is. You are going to be Katniss's ally."

"That's the plan."

"And how's that going?"

"She doesn't like me very much."

"Exactly. She doesn't like you, and she doesn't trust you. This will convince her to at least give you a chance."

"I don't think-"

"She knows that it's mine, she'll know that I gave it to you."

"Okay. Thanks I guess."

"And Finnick?"

"Yeah."

"Even if you two are allies, watch her. She'll kill you if you start worrying her, and I don't want you getting complacent. She's dangerous, and if you don't watch your every step, you'll have an arrow in your head before the end of the first day. Watch yourself around her."

"I was planning on it."

"Good. Now I have to go before some peacekeeper comes and chews me out. But kid?"

"Yeah?"

"Good luck." Then he hurries away, almost bumping into Sylvia on her way out.

"What's he doing here?" she wonders. I quickly fasten the bangle on my wrist and shrug.

"Wanted to make a last minute request to ally with Katniss. I figure it'll be a good idea. I doubt she'd let me live long otherwise."

"Oh," she says, not completely convinced. But I don't want her to fight over it much longer, so I lead the way to the roof, where our hovercraft is waiting. There the attendant injects the tracker into my arm, although very shallowly, so I can still see it straining against my skin. I know that she's one of Plutarch's people, making it as easy as possible for me to get out. Good, that makes it more convenient.

When we get to the launch room, I quickly shower. When I'm done, Sylvia hands me the outfit, which is different from what I was expecting, but makes sense as well, if Plutarch was right about all the water. It's just a fitted blue jumpsuit, with a thick belt that's covered in purple plastic. The shoes are made of nylon with rubber soles.

"Strange," Sylvia mutters. I smile to myself, running the jumpsuit through my fingers.

"Not strange. It's the same material that a lot of the fisherman in our district wear, the ones with more money anyway. It dries very quickly and offers protection from the sun, making it extremely useful. There'll be water, if this is any indication," I say with a smile. It's true. I could have figured out what laid ahead of me even without Plutarch's help, because I remember the material very clearly from working with my father.

"Interesting. That puts you at a clear advantage." I think of all my years of fishing, and more recently taking Annie swimming with me almost any chance I've gotten. I've lived in the water my whole life. Yes, a very clear advantage.

"Maybe luck is on my side," I say. Sylvia helps me into the jumpsuit and fastens the belt around my waist with a sad smile.

"I hope I see you again," she says. I try to shrug nonchalantly.

"You will. Don't worry." Then I keep pacing around the room, twirling Haymitch's bangle on my arm, thinking about how in just moments, my life, Mags's life, is going to be in danger.

Then, it's time to go, and Sylvia walks me over to the metal plate.

"Good luck." I nod and mumble a quiet thanks, and then the plate begins to rise.

My lips curl up into a smile as I see everything that surrounds me. Plutarch wasn't kidding me. The only way to even get to the cornucopia is by swimming. The sight is very welcome.

I lean forward, getting ready to dive, and as soon as the gong sounds, I'm swimming towards the glinting cornucopia. In what feels like an instant, quicker than I thought I could swim, I pull myself onto a sandy beach-like area and start sprinting towards the cornucopia. Right away, a glinting silver trident catches my eye, and I grab it. Catching a glimpse of a net, much nicer than my homemade ones last year, I snatch it as well before going to look for Katniss, planning on helping her off her plate.

But apparently, she knows how to swim, and very quickly as well, because she's already ripped a bow out of the pile. Just as I approach her, she hears me coming and spins around, her bow ready to shoot. I raise my trident up defensively in as innocent of a position as I can manage, even going as far as to smile at her, but I can't relax completely. She's deadly, and my nerves would be on edge anyway, just from being in the arena.

"You can swim, too," I say, as friendlily as possible. "Where did you learn that in District Twelve?"

"We have a big bathtub." Amusing.

"You must," I say, keeping it light. "You like the arena?"

"Not particularly." Obviously not. She's the girl on fire after all. "But you should. They must have built it especially for you."

I stare at her for a moment, watching her bow, waiting for her to pull the string. When she doesn't, I figure that if she's not going to confront me, that I should probably try to make the alliance very quickly, otherwise other people will make it over to the cornucopia and I'll get a knife in my back while I'm talking to her.

"Lucky thing we're allies. Right?" Her hand draws back, her arm tensing as she gets the arrow ready to fly, and I quickly turn my wrist, letting the golden bangle catch the sunlight.

She stares at it for a moment, and I'm ready to yell at her to hurry up because I hear footsteps, when she finally snaps, "Right." And that's good enough for now, because I don't have time to confirm anything else anyway. A guy from Five is approaching behind her, and I let my instincts take over.

"Duck," I command, then throw my trident over her head and into the guy's chest. I feel somewhat hollow when I realize that it's as easy as it was ten years ago, but I have no time to dwell on that. I hurry and yank the trident out from his chest while talking to Katniss, hoping that she's listening. "Don't trust One and Two."

She nods her head, then asks, "Each take one side?" It's a good enough proposition, so I stay where I am and she runs around the pile with her bow raised. Glancing around, I see no one threatening coming from my side and turn to look around the cornucopia for any food, anything other than weapons. Nothing.

"Anything useful?" I shout.

"Weapons!" she calls back, and I have to curse under my breath. "Nothing but weapons." I know that it isn't the end of the world, especially with the water to provide fish and shellfish, but I find from watching other Games that eating food the Capitol provides is generally safer. Whatever. She has a bow, and I have a net, so we aren't going to starve. For now, we just need to get out of here before someone comes up and kills us.

"Same here," I shout at her. "Grab what you want and let's go." I run to the front of the pile, looking it over for more tridents. I find a couple knives and another trident before Katniss meets me at about the same time as Brutus is rushing forward out of the water.

"Do something about that, would you?" I ask her, not looking to see if she does. I take one more glance at the weapons, then scan the spokes where other tributes are standing to see if I can see Mags or Peeta, or Johanna or Beetee.

"Let's clear out," she yells at me, and I listen because I still don't see any of them. Apparently she does, however, because she takes off towards a certain plate, and sure enough, when I look up, he's standing there. I follow her without question, knowing that behind her, Peeta's the most important tribute, and that I have to get him before Johanna or Mags. When she's as close as she get to his plate, she starts dropping her weapons, but I put a hand on her shoulder.

I couldn't defend her very easily if she was in the water, but I know that with her arrows, she'd be able to cover me easily. Besides, it's more important that she's in a safe place than me, and I can swim faster. There's no way that she's going to get Peeta. She probably couldn't even carry him if she did.

"I'll get him," I tell her. Her eyes flicker with distrust.

"I can," she insists. I say the first good excuse that I can come up with. Whether or not Peeta was lying, I figure that she can't exactly down what he said now.

"Better not exert yourself. Not in your condition." Incase she's really dense, I reach down and pat her stomach. She stares at me, and her reaction has me wondering just how truthful she is, but I don't have time to dissect her motives. I position myself on the edge of the water and shout, "Cover me." Then I dive and start cutting through the water towards where Peeta is standing, not looking back to see if she's covering me or not. I don't doubt that she is, not when I could so easily just throw Peeta in the water if I turned around and saw her slacking.

When I reach Peeta's spoke, he eyes me with distrust.

"You see your little wife back there?" I ask quickly. He nods. "She's agreed to be my ally, so I'd suggest that you do as well."

He looks skeptical, but can't exactly argue when she's standing right there, obviously waiting.

"Fine." So I push him forward, into the water. He comes up sputtering, but I'm already beside him. I put one arm across his chest and use the other to propel us forward. It's a lot slower than usual, even when I let Daisy ride my back, because Peeta really has no idea what to do in the water. It's annoying, but I keep my mouth shut until we get to shore. Immediately he heads over to Katniss.

While they have their sweet little reunion, I double check to make sure that no one is after us, then look for Mags. She's already slowly making her way over to us, and I focus back on Peeta and Katniss, hoping to make sure that they realize if they want me, Mags is going to have to come too.

"Remind me," Peeta is asking, "did we make deals with anyone else?"

"Only Mags, I think," Katniss says, but she sounds unsure.

"Well, I can't leave Mags behind," I say. "She's one of the few people who actually likes me."

"I've got no problem with Mags," Katniss says, and I relax. "Especially now that I see the arena. Her fishhooks are probably our best chance of getting a meal." Not really, nets would work better, and actually fishing, in the case that there are actual fish in the water, would take forever with hooks. In District 4, using hooks and lines is a leisure activity, one that could take hours for you to catch three or four fish. But I don't correct her. There's no reason to.

"Katniss wanted her on the first day," Peeta says. I think of the way that she looked at Mags with something like approval when I introduced the two of them.

"Katniss has remarkably good judgment." Mags arrives just a moment later, and I scoop her out of the water. She glances at the two District Twelve tributes, realizes that we're allied, then must remember that we're supposed to be, because she doesn't comment on it. Instead, she gestures to her belt.

"They let you bob," she says. I look down at my own belt, remembering how quickly I made it to the cornucopia and realize that she's right. When I look around at the other tributes, I see that Beetee realized that the belts can be used as flotation devices too.

"Look, she's right. Someone figured it out." I point to where Beetee is. Oh, crap, Beetee. For a second I'm torn, but I realize that right now, I have to get Katniss out of the immediate area, so I explain as quickly as I can.

"What?" she asks, completely clueless. I look between her and Mags, then realize that she probably didn't understand a word that she said.

"The belts. They're flotation devices. I mean, you have to propel yourself, but they'll keep you from drowning." She gives her belt no more than a glance, obviously not as interested in this development as I am. I guess I don't expect her to care, but in District 4, after seeing so many fisherman drown, I know how important these would be if the Capitol would actually distribute them to our district. Well, right now I guess it's a little late for those thoughts, because the Capitol won't be distributing anything to us, hopefully ever again.

Katniss, her mind already moving on, suggests tat we get going, and I can't really argue. I hoist Mags on top of my back, grab my tridents with my free hand, and then we start running away from the cornucopia.


	6. She Loves Him, She Loves Him Not

A/N- Okay, now comes the tricky part, since virtually every one of Finnick's movements is already recorded, and I'm just working with them. Hopefully, I don't interpret too badly, especially since I'm having some trouble fitting things in, so I'm really interested in hearing what you think about how I'm doing. Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing.

* * *

Away from the beach, trees start thickening into what I quickly recognize as a jungle. I don't even think there are any in Panem, but I remember seeing pictures of them in Capitol shops, and there was a Games a few years ago that had similar trees, so it isn't hard to fit the word with the image. Here, unlike in my first Games, the ground is wet and spongy, the trees tall with few branches and huge leaves. The flowers are brightly colored, which screams poison, and everything feels wet. My jumpsuit, my hair, even my face. I don't know if it's from water or sweat, but I get the feeling that I'm somehow suffocating.

But despite the humidity, and the sharply rising elevation, we keep going for about a mile, and even though I'm not very comfortable with stopping quite yet, I can feel Mags's grip on my neck starting to slacken, and I know that she needs a break.

"Can we rest here?" I pant. Peeta, who was behind me, stops gratefully his face red and soaked with perspiration. Katniss doesn't seem as tired, but she doesn't argue either. Instead, she walks off a ways and starts climbing a tall, very dangerous looking tree.

I set Mags down on a rock and start to take a seat myself, but she shakes her head.

"Watch Katniss," she orders, and even though I have no idea what she's talking about, there's something in her eyes that makes me wary.

"I don't think-"

"She doesn't trust you," Mags says. "Be careful." I give her a look, and I see Peeta's somewhat concerned face as well, but I go off and stand under the tree that she climbed, wondering what Mags could be talking about.

Then I think of something. She'll see the blood staining the ground at the cornucopia. The bodies of the people who'd been acting like friends. Then she'll think of us, acting something like friends, at least trying to trust each other. And she'll think that it'll have to end. I remember her talking to Peeta last year, in the cave, about how big of a deal it is to owe someone something. She'll want to get rid of me before she starts owing more than she already does for towing Peeta off his plate.

Mags may be fading slightly, but she definitely isn't stupid.

When Katniss gets down from the tree, I stroll over to her, raising my trident defensively incase she tries something. I can see by the look in her eyes that Mags's suspicious, my suspicions, were dead on. She's looking at me like she's analyzing my every move, like she's figuring out what the chink in my armor is.

"What's going on down there, Katniss? Have they all joined hands? Taken a vow on nonviolence? Tossed the weapons in the sea in defiance of the Capitol?"

"No."

"No," I repeat. "Because whatever happened in the past is in the past. And no one in this arena was a victor by chance." I look over my shoulder and see Peeta, tentatively watching us. "Except maybe Peeta."

She locks eyes with me, and I can see the way that she's looking at my trident, studying my moves. How she seems to be gauging how much time it'll take me to impale her with my trident versus how long it'll take for her to get an arrow through my skull. And despite knowing that killing her would be very counterproductive, my instincts have me sizing her up as well. If she decides to kill me, I will hurt her. Maybe not kill her, but I can't just let her take me. No, I'd stab her somewhere that'd incapacitate her, but not do lethal damage.

Just as I'm working out where it'd be beneficial to send my trident, Peeta thankfully walks up in between us and stops that from becoming a possibility.

"So how many are dead?" he asks. She shoots him an annoyed look, and if I didn't know if because she thought he was in her way from killing me, it almost would have been amusing.

"Hard to say," she says. "At least six, I think. And they're still fighting."

"Let's keep moving. We need water."

"Better find some soon," I say quickly. "We need to be undercover when the others come hunting us tonight."

The tension in her body relaxes, and her eyes are no longer calculating, but rather simply distrusting. She's decided not to kill me. For now. I just need to make sure that it stays that way long enough for Beetee and Plutarch to get us out of here. Then I remember Beetee, swimming towards the cornucopia. The cornucopia! What was he doing? What if he's been killed?

But no, if need be, Johanna would have protected him. She knows how important he is.

We start walking again, all of us completely silent for the first mile or so until Katniss says, "Maybe we'll have better luck on the other side. Find a spring or something."

Everyone nods in agreement, and I can only hope that we find something soon, because I can feel myself starting to get dehydrated, with all the sweating in here.

But moments later, Katniss opens her mouth to say something, except her words are interrupted by a sharp zapping sound. I whip around just as Peeta's flung directly at me, throwing Mags and me to the ground. Quickly checking to make sure that Mags wasn't hurt, I lean forward to look at Peeta. Katniss is already there, whispering his name, checking for signs of life. By the look on her face, I can tell exactly what she's found.

"Peeta!" she screams. She starts shaking him, but I know that it's no good. His heart's failed. Before, when I used to work on the boats, that happened often, out on the ocean. Obviously she has no idea what she's supposed to do, because she keeps shaking and slapping, which is probably the worst thing you could do to an injured person. Quickly, I set Mags back against a tree, then rush over to where she standing over him.

I push her out of the way, and mutter, "Let me." I check him over quickly, confirming my suspicions, and then let my instincts take over, remember the dozen or so times that I did this before, all those years ago.

"No!" she screams when I pinch his nostrils shut, but I don't have time to pay attention to her. I only hold out, and she runs directly into it, falling back against a tree. Continuing to try to revive Peeta, knowing that she'll end this alliance immediately if I don't, I'm only vaguely aware of her pointing an arrow at me, and I don't even notice when she drops it.

Minutes pass, and I keep repeating the steps again and again, praying that something will happen, but as I keep finding silence again and again, I start worrying that the stupid force field killed him.

Then, finally he gives a small cough and I sit back. Katniss rushes over immediately, leaving her weapons behind and throwing herself at him. I watch carefully, now that my job is finished, extremely confused.

She isn't supposed to love him, Haymitch already told me that it was fake. I've seen that it's fake. Sometimes, it's painfully obvious. But then why does she seem to care so much. Why are her words getting choked up with tears?

"It's all right, Katniss," Peeta says, trying to console her, but she keeps making noises that sound something like a dying walrus. "Katniss?" he asks, his voice full of concern.

"It's okay. It's just her hormones. From the baby," I say, hoping to cover for her from any sponsors that are watching this and cringing. I have no idea if she's pregnant or not, but right now she _is _sure acting like it.

"No. It's not-" She tries to say, but her sobs cut her off again. She can't actually love him, can she? I shake my head slightly. No. It's just an act. A very, very good one.

"How are you?" I ask Peeta quickly, hoping to get my mind off the subject. I'll have time to mull it over later. Right now, we need water. Desperately. "Do you think you can move on?"

"No," Katniss says firmly. "He has to rest." I want to argue, because we really do need to hunt for water, but Katniss chooses that moment to start crying again, her nose running like crazy. I hold back a growl, my eyes searching furiously through the trees for anyone that's heard her screaming or sniffling or any of the other noises that she's been making since we got here.

I think of my last Games, how much easier it was when Arowana was my only ally. Dealing with an unstable possibly in love, possibly crazy, possibly pregnant girl that I'm expected to die to protect, is making the whole thing a lot harder.

Peeta and Katniss start talking about something that I don't really care about, and I watch them a moment before sighing.

"So you want to make camp here, then?" I ask again, hoping that they can hear the irritation in my voice. Katniss looks like she's about to nod, but thankfully Peeta speaks up.

"I don't think that's an option. Staying here. With no water. No protection. I feel all right, really. If we could just go slowly." Someone, I'm not even surprised that despite the fact that he died about two minutes ago, he's thinking more clearly than Katniss. I've noticed that about her. When someone she cares about is in danger, her ability to think clearly leaves her, which may come back to bite the rebellion later. But for now, I figure that as long as she has Peeta, who seems to have a gift for keeping his thoughts straight.

"Slowly would be better than not at all," I say, staring straight at Katniss when I do. She looks irritated, but nods all the same. I pick Peeta up off the ground, and Katniss steps forward.

"I'll take the lead," she announces. Peeta's about to object, when I remember her getting ready to scream before Peeta even hit the force field.

"No, let her do it." I look at her. "You knew that force field was there, didn't you? Right at the last second? You started to give a warning. How did you know?"

I hope that she'll give some kind of tip or something, because I would rather lead than have her do it, but I also highly doubt that she's going to tell. Her slight hesitation confirms that suspicion.

"I don't know. It's almost as if I could hear it. Listen."

Despite my doubts, I listen. There's absolutely nothing.

"I don't hear anything," says Peeta. I want to ask him if he really expected to.

"Yes," she insists. "It's like when the fence around District 12 is on, only much, much quieter." She stops again, giving everyone an attempt to hear it again. I don't even bother trying. "There! Can't you hear it? It's coming from right where Peeta got shocked."

"I don't hear it, either," I say. "But if you do, by all means, take the lead." I can't completely keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Katniss doesn't notice, but Mags shoots me a look that reminds me of a teacher reprimanding a five year old. It makes me feel like a bratty little kid.

"That's weird. I can only hear it out of my left ear." Oh, now where is this going?

"The one the doctors reconstructed?"

"Yeah." She shrugs. "Maybe they did a better job than they thought. You know, sometimes I do hear funny things on that side. Things you wouldn't ordinarily think have a sound. Like insect wings. Or snow hitting the ground." I mutter something under my breath, and she doesn't even look at me. It's not a very convincing statement if her advanced hearing is so selective. But I'm not going to argue. If she thinks that it's a secret worth keeping, then I'm not going to question her. I don't know if Mags saw through her ruse either, but apparently knowing that Katniss does have a sense of where the force field is helps, because she nudges her forward.

"You," she says. So Katniss gets her lead spot, although I'm still wondering how emotionally stable she is. Mags and Peeta are in the middle, Mags walking with a stick I grabbed her, and I bring up the rear, planning on taking out every single one of the other tributes, who could easily overtake us at this moment. I don't blame Mags for it either, because I could carry her easily if we had to. But Peeta is going so slow, and Katniss is bothering me with her crying and lying, and distrust of me, because really, worrying about my enemies is enough, I don't want to worry about my allies too.


	7. Thirsty

A/N- Okay, not much to say. I just have a little warning that I probably won't update for a while after this, because we're going into Districts in basketball and practices are completely crazy, and I have like no time to think or breath or type. So, it'll probably be at least a week, probably longer, and they'll be more spaced out after that too. I had the first part of this pre-written, but now I'm only an update or two away from using up everything I had, so they'll be slightly more spaced out, but I still guarantee that they won't be more than ten days apart.

Other than that, all I have to say is enjoy that story, and please, please review.

* * *

We keep walking until Katniss stops and turns around. I see her eyes go to Mags, who is noticeably limping, and Peeta, who hasn't been going any faster than Mags. Seeing that, she decides it's time for a break, and climbs up another tree. Remembering the last time, I lean back against the trunk of another tree across from it and keep my trident held up, incase she's planning some kind of sneak attack.

"I hope she finds water," Peeta comments. I give a weak smile, because now that he had to go mention it, he is right. My throat is dry, my tongue taking on the texture of sandpaper. I think back to my last Games, where I never needed to do more than look hungry before my mentors showered me with gourmet food.

"I'll seriously sleep with whatever chick decides to send me a bottle of water." Mags glares at me disapprovingly, but I don't really care what people think at the moment. I'm thirsty, and I figure that it'll get me something. It's not like I'll ever have to keep that promise, because if everything goes according to plan, I'll be in District Thirteen before I'm anywhere near the Capitol. Therefore, I think that it's a pretty intelligent comment. Felix must not, however, because I know that I have sponsors, and he just isn't letting anything through.

"I'm not serious," I say to Peeta's strange gaze. "Just trying to con someone into sending something to drink."

I almost laugh when I see him relax.

"Sorry, it's just-" I sigh.

"Yeah, I know."

Katniss comes down from her tree a minute or so later and immediately gives a detailed description of the arena. I listen, and it's interesting, but that's not what I'm worrying about her seeing.

"Did you see any water?" I ask when she's finally finished.

"Only the saltwater, where we started the Games." I think about that. In District 4, we have a way to turn the water fresh, so it's drinkable, but it takes a while without the right technology, and quite obviously, we don't have that. If you drink saltwater, all it does is dehydrate yourself. Not good. If the arena is small, Katniss would have seen water.

"There must be some other source, or we'll all be dead in a matter of days," Peeta says, but I don't doubt that's what the Capitol wants. I just hope Beetee is still alive, and can still have time to do his thing. Hell, I still hope that I have time to find him. For the first time, though, I start to wonder. What if the Games do end before the plan can go into action? No. I banish the thought from my head. Plutarch is controlling everything, so even just considering that is stupid. If he sees that it won't work, he will fix it.

"Well, the foliage is thick. Maybe there are ponds or springs somewhere," Katniss says, sounding about as doubtful as I feel. "At any rate, there's no point in trying to find out what's over the edge of this hill, because the answer is nothing."

"There must be drinkable water between the force field and the wheel," Peeta insists.

That would mean heading straight into the arms of ferocious Careers, who aren't bogged down by an eighty year old lady who by no means belongs in an area, and a boy whose heart stopped not an hour ago. Not the best idea.

Eventually, we decide to just move down the slope a ways before we do the same thing we've been doing, like maybe there'll be something a little bit closer. A waste of energy in my opinion, but I can't say that I know we'll eventually be granted access to water, because that would be a death sentence to myself and anyone involved in the rebellion.

So, I sling Mags back over my shoulders, Katniss pulls Peeta to his feet, and we get to walking, and walking, until midafternoon. Our progress is so slow that it drives me insane, and it seems like we've covered almost nothing by then, but Mags and Peeta are in desperate need of a place not to just rest, but to sleep. I still feel uncomfortable without water, but thinking of Plutarch, and also knowing that we would have a million sponsors, I force myself to relax slightly. They won't let the Mockingjay die, and if they send her water, they'll most likely spare a drop for her allies as well. At least they better, or I won't let them live it down.

I start looking around for a camp, not wanting to tell them we should stop just incase there's no place to stay. Trees are out because Katniss is probably the only one who could get very high. No matter how athletic I am, I doubt that the rubbery tree limbs would be able to hold me, and Peeta isn't much smaller. Caves aren't an option either, because there are none.

That leaves very little in the way of protection, and I decide that we should just set up close to the force field, so that if someone attacks, we can just chuck them into it and they'll be dead instantly. I know the repercussions of using force fields in Games from the stories that Haymitch has told me, but I'm hoping that I no longer have to worry about that, simply because I'm planning that Snow will no longer have control over my life when I'm finished here.

"We should stop now," I say. Katniss asks about a shelter, and I explain the force field idea with her. She looks skeptical, which I'm starting to think is her normal look, but then I realize that I probably have that look a lot too. It comes from growing up in Panem. Despite any possible protestations she has, though, she eventually agrees, because even she knows that there are no other options.

When everyone gets to a decent looking spot, I take a seat and start pulling five foot high blades of some type of grass out of the ground and weave them together into mats to sleep on. Peeta finds nuts that Mags had been eating earlier, and Katniss stands guard, but I see her fidgeting and doubt that it will last long.

I'm almost finishing the last mat when Katniss snaps around and looks at me.

"Finnick, why don't you stand guard and I'll hunt around some more for water." I expected that, but letting the Mockingjay go off alone seems dangerous.

"No, I'm almost done here. You keep guard over them, and I'll find food," I say. She shakes her head.

"No, it's getting boring here."

"But Katniss-" Peeta starts to complain.

"Don't worry, I won't go too far," she promises him. I remember the Games from last year, when she promised him that and he started picking nightlock for them to eat. Oh well, I guess at least this time I can look over him, and Katniss can take care of herself.

"No, I'm going to do some hunting if I can," she says. "I won't be long."

"I can hunt too," I tell her, but she's already turning around and leaving. I sigh and finish my mat, muttering about suicidal Mockingjays, because sometimes I do swear that Katniss Everdeen doesn't give her own life any thought at all.

Oh, her sister's going to the Games, so she just has to volunteer. Uh-oh, lover-boy has blood poisoning, so I'm just going to head into a pack of blood thirsty half humans to grab him some medicine. Ooh, look, it's the Hunger Games, and I have a studly, amazingly strong man wanting to hunt for me at the risk of his own life, but I'm bored, so I'll just reject the offer.

I have to wonder if keeping this girl alive is going to be harder than I thought.

"Is she always like that?" I ask Peeta as I drag two of the mats beside each other and start to connect them. He laughs.

"Yeah, she is." The love in his voice makes me cringe. I think of Annie, sitting at home, no doubt watching me. Is she having a relapse? What's going through her head? Maybe she's sleeping. I sigh, thinking of how that's the only time she ever looks peaceful anymore, of how her face turns so childlike and innocent, and her hair gets all tousled, and…

"Finnick, I'm going to go find some nuts. You two keep working on making the shelter," Peeta says, thankfully interrupting my thoughts. I can't think about her, not here. I have to be concentrating, concentrating on keeping Katniss alive.

"Alright. Just don't die, or your girlfriend will have my head."

Peeta snorts.

"Finnick, you don't know how right you are," he says before walking away. I sigh, knowing that he's right. If he went off and died, she would literally have my head.

"Here, I'm almost done with these, and you're probably still tired from dieing. I'll-" I look at Mags before I offer to help him, then trail off.

"I'm fine Finnick, really. You two stay and make us a place to stay. I won't get far. Katniss should be back soon anyway." I look at him skeptically, but he isn't defenseless, and it isn't like there was a good possibility of any tributes being near here anyway.

"Just be quick," I tell him, then continue to put the mats back together.

I have a small hut finished quickly. After that, I sit down beside Mags and the two of us weave bowls and other things that we can use out of the thick grass. After a while, Peeta returns, loaded down with enough nuts to feed a small army.

"Is Katniss back yet?" he asks worriedly. I shake my head.

"She's fine, no cannons have gone off, and she was going hunting, which could take a while. Don't do anything stupid."

"I should go look for her."

"Remember when I said not to do anything stupid? Knowing Little Miss Warrior Princess, she'd probably send an arrow through your heart before she even saw your face. Sit, stay, be a good boy."

"It's nice to know that you think of me as a dog," he says, even though he does sit and starts emptying his nuts into one of the bowls that Mags had made.

"Well, Haymitch is your mentor," I say with my best smile. He shakes his head at me.

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to figure you out," he says. "You risk your life to be Katniss's ally, you tow me off the platform, you save my life. Sometimes you're nice, sometimes you try to joke, and sometimes you act like a creep. You're hiding something, and I have to wonder if I shouldn't just kill you in your sleep."

"Wow, thanks for telling me," I say, plopping down onto the spongy ground. My throat is aching for water, and I'm starting to get extremely annoyed at Felix for holding back anything from my sponsors. I'm actually too thirsty to really care about what Peeta is implying, other than to note that I'm impressed at how observant he is. But with the killing me in my sleep, I'd expect that from his somewhat psychotic girlfriend, not from him.

"You treat me like I'm not a threat," he says.

"To me, I don't think that you are. The only kill you've got in your last Games was accidental, and you still felt _bad_ about it. You taking a knife at me in my sleep? You're too _good _for that."

"I'm not any better than you are," he argues, and I try not to laugh.

"Peeta, have you seen my Games? I had _fun _at the end. I loved it. Right now, sitting here, I'm enjoying myself more than I have in a long time, although the lack of water is annoying. But I thrive in here. I love it here. There's no way that you're anywhere near as low as I am."

He looks at me strangely. "I don't agree."

"He's right," Mags tell me, looking at Peeta. Her cloudy eyes seem sad. "You're a good person."

"Of course I am," I say, then get up and start pacing, glad when that effectively ends the conversation, because I don't think that either of them understand exactly how terrible I really am.


	8. Waiting

A/N- Okay, it's a little later than usual, which I apologize for, but I don't think I did too bad. After next week, my updates will be closer together again, too, since my basketball season can't last more than another week and a half, even if we do make state. That means free time on my hands, so I should be able to go back to getting things up every four days or so. As for chapter 9, that should be up by next Wednesday. Thank you so much for reading, and please review.

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Katniss arrives a little later, and we all look at her, hopeful that she found water, but she shakes her head sadly.

"No, no water. It's out there, though. He knew where it was." She holds up some kind of skinned animal, possibly a rodent. "He'd been drinking recently when I shot him out of a tree, but I couldn't find his source. I swear, I covered every inch of ground in a thirty-yard radius."

"Can we eat him?" Peeta asks.

"I don't know for sure. But his meat doesn't look that different from a squirrel's. he ought to be cooked…" She hesitates, and I know why. Starting a fire here would be freakishly difficult, and the wet wood would make smoke even if we could manage it. Yeah, the company during these Games is nice, but I think I liked the last ones better. A mentor who'd let the food through, a partner who I didn't have to worry about stabbing me in the back, and a lot nicer general environment. Sure, the nice little chunk of ocean is nice, but right now, when it's not even in sight, it doesn't make much of a difference.

"There has to be some way to cook it," Peeta says. I shrug.

"It's not like we have an oven." His face scrunched up for a moment, like he's thinking, then he smiles.

"Yeah, but we have something better."

His idea is to cut up the rodent and drop it on the force field. The meat is black, but cooked well enough, so I can't exactly complain, even though I'm not too thrilled with the quality of food. What can I say? I've never been hungry, even during my Games. I was able to be picky, and I can see that hasn't helped me at all by the way Katniss and Peeta chow down on the crispy meat like it's a gourmet meal.

I don't comment, though, seeing how I really shouldn't be complaining. It's the Hunger Games. There's a reason why they're called that.

We eat our meal, consisting of nuts and meat, but it doesn't help our thirst at all. I start questioning Katniss about the rodent, but I'm no expect tracker, and I'm sure that she looked pretty thoroughly after she'd shot it. But, it feels like I'm making some effort, and the information gives me something to chew over, even though I make no headway at all.

After I figure that I'll get nothing out of the rat, I sit in the corner by Mags while Katniss and Peeta talk.

"We walked a lot today, are you okay?" She gazes at me intently before answering.

"For now." It's such a cryptic answer that I change the subject, cajoling her to tell stories about things that I don't care about, but that keep her talking, because I worry so badly that soon, her voice will be nothing more than a memory to me.

Eventually, the moon starts making it's way into the center of the sky, and Mags stops talking. I can hear Katniss and Peeta's quiet conversation trailing off as well, because everyone knows what's coming. I say a quick prayer that Johanna and Beetee aren't up there, and then the anthem is blaring in the otherwise quiet night.

Consolingly, I put an arm around Mags's shoulder, because I know that some of these people had been like children to her, then the faces start.

There's the guy from Five, who must not have mentored, because I don't know him. The guy from Six, a rebel, both from Eight and Nine, the woman from Ten, and Seeder. I bite my lip when I see that one, knowing she was close with Chastity, but I highly doubt that she'll be affected much. As I said before, I think that she'd trained herself not to feel.

For a few moments, no one can speak. I'm thinking about Cecelia and her kids, about working over some last minute plans with Seeder, about the guy who died at my hands and how I really don't care anymore. I have no idea what's going through anyone else's head, but just as the silence is starting to suffocate me, a silver parachute glides through the trees to land in front of us. We all stare at it for a moment before Katniss speaks.

"Whose is it, do you think?"

"No telling," I say, my voice somewhat hollow. "Why don't we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?" Peeta quietly steps forward and picks up the parachute before untying the cord and flattening it out. A small metal object sits on it, something that I've never seen before.

"What is it?" Katniss asks. No one has any idea. We pass it around, looking at it curiously, but no one has any ideas. Peeta tries to make noise with it, but all that comes out is his whoosh of air. I slide my pinkie in it to see if it'd work as a weapon, but it's harmless, unless I'd chuck it at someone's head from extremely close range.

Katniss asks Mags if she could fish with it, but even if she could, Felix and Haymitch wouldn't be dumb enough to let that through, because it'd just be a waste of money. Katniss grabs it in frustration after Mags answers no and paces back and forth, looking at it the whole time. Eventually, she jams it into the ground.

"I give up. Maybe if we hook up with Beetee or Wiress they can figure it out."

Huh. That's a nice little development, that she's considering teaming up with them already. The only problem with that, then, is to find them.

I hope that Johanna realized I wouldn't be able to get to them and scooped them up herself, because I really need Beetee here as soon as possible, so they can start sending signals about our great escape.

Sighing, I rest my head against one of the mats and think everything through again, wondering if escaping the arena is actually realistic, or just some foolish notion, the kind of thing that people who are desperate cling to.

But it can't be. I used to think the same thing about the rebellion. I can still remember, seven years ago, sitting with my head in my hands at those stupid meetings in the cave, making half-assed suggestions that were just plain stupid, because I thought that it was all a huge waste. Now, the rebellion has started, it's happening, in full swing, really. What was once a dream is now true, so why can't escaping the arena be true? Why does it still feel impossible, untouchable like actually winning the rebellion, like finding happiness with Annie and only Annie, like not having her family hate me because of what I've been thrown into, like finally breaking away from the person who the Capitol has transformed me into.

All of it, so impossible, so unreal. There's no way that life can exist without the Capitol, it's one of those things that gets ingrained into your head after living with it for twenty four years. Snow's a jackass, chicks from the Capitol need a life, and the Districts will be destroyed before they get close to winning a rebellion. It sucks, but you have to think that it's true, because otherwise, wouldn't something have happened already?

But maybe not. Maybe Panem needed three quarters of a century of Hunger Games to completely explode out from under Snow's thumb. Maybe this time, all of those things that have been hammered into every victor's head, those depressing thoughts, are finally going to be dispelled of. Maybe there is away to tear yourself away from Snow's hand and become more than just another piece in his Games.

"A spile!" Katniss shouts, interrupting my thoughts. I look at her strangely.

"What?" I ask. She wrestles the thing from where she threw it into the ground and studies it for a moment, before holding it up for us to look at.

"It's a spile. Sort of like a faucet. You put it in a tree and sap comes out." She looks around at all of the trees that surround us. "Well, the right sort of tree."

"Sap?" I ask, not sure what she's talking about.

"To make syrup," Peeta says. "But there must be something else inside these trees."

Well, it's not that hard to figure out. There's only one thing in those trees that's important enough for Felix and Haymitch to use money on, and that's water. I snatch the spile out of her hands and start to hammer it into a tree with a rock, my thirst thinking for me, but Katniss grabs my arm.

"Wait. You might damage it. We need to drill a hole first." I groan.

"And we'll drill a hole with, what?"

That presents a small problem, but we end up using Mags's awl. Peeta and I take turns driving it into the stupid tree with that and our knives until it can hold the spile. Too much work for water if you ask me, but after Katniss sticks it in and a steady stream of water starts flowing out, I decide that it's well worth it, even if that water's slightly warm.

Once the problem of our thirst is out of the way, basically everyone agrees that we should start making preparations for the night. While everyone else gets ready to go to sleep, I offer to take the first watch. Peeta's obviously exhausted as he is, and I don't want Katniss to put herself in any more danger than necessary. Besides, I'm not exactly keen on sleeping again anyway. Over ten years, my nightmares have faded slightly, or maybe I've just gotten used to them, but I'm sure that sleeping in the arena again should give me a lot of new, joyful images to brood over, and I'm not interested in tackling those before I have to.


	9. Numb

**A/N- Okay, a good news/bad news thing. Good news, I got this post up earlier than I thought. Bad news, this isn't exactly my favorite part of the story, and I'm not sure how well I handled the whole thing because I kind of just wanted it to be done. Well, anyway, I hope you like it. Please read and review. **

**Oh, and speaking of reviewing, just real quick, I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed this, because it's getting a ton more responses than the first two, and I just want everyone to know how much I appreciate that. Please keep it up. Thank you. **

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For the first few hours of the watch, I just lean back against a tree and listen for anyone coming, my trident resting lazily in my hands. I know for a fact that if anyone is hunting for us, no matter how cautious they are, I'll know that they're there first, simply because they'd have to try to be moving silently through the forest, which is more difficult than it sounds.

I don't think any of the tributes in these Games could actually manage it. Definitely none of the Careers; they're all too big. Chaff and Johanna could, but neither of them would kill me. Everyone else is too old, or wouldn't be hunting in the first place, so I don't see any need to take any extra precautions.

In the quiet, it's a lot harder to keep thoughts that I've been trying to avoid out of my head. Like what does Annie think about this whole thing? Did she care when I killed that guy from Five? She'd seen me kill before, in my first Games, but I don't even know if she remembers that. I'm still kind of confused about just what she does know, after what happened during her Games. Is this a shock to her, or did she expect it? What does Daisy, who could hardly speak when I left for my last Games, think about this? Does she still see me as the person she'd grown to like, or am I now the monster that my father had taught her I was?

I'm starting to drive myself crazy with questions when the bell starts tolling. In an instant I'm on my feet, looking around, and I hear Katniss jolt upright too.

Once I register that it's not a threat, I start listening for some significance, counting the tolls, waiting for Templesmith to say something. Nothing. It just stops.

"I counted twelve," I tell her.

"Mean anything, do you think?" she asks.

"No idea."

We wait a few moments to see if anything else is going to happen and considering what it might have meant. Just as I'm about to suggest it was nothing, a dazzling bolt of lightning strikes a towering tree, signaling the start of a lightning storm a ways across the arena. We both watch it, but that's all that seems to happen.

"Go to sleep, Finnick," Katniss says, "It's my turn to watch, anyway."

I hesitate, still not sure that the bell didn't mean something, that something isn't going to happen, but I convince myself that it's just my paranoia, and I really do need to sleep, so I settle near the mouth of the hut, as close to the exit as I can, my trident clutched in one hand, and drift off to sleep.

I wake up not even an hour later when a strange sickly sweet odor reaches my nose. Still too groggy to think anything of it, I roll over, my eyes still closed. Then, Katniss's shouts fills my ears.

"Run! Run!"

I'm up in an instantly, looking for whoever's there. Then I see a wall of fog, too straight and uniform to be natural, descending on us. All I can think about at that moment is that we need to run, and Mags can't run. Katniss and Peeta are both fast, so I grab her and take off, expecting them to follow me.

I don't get far when I remember Peeta's damn leg. I stop and start shouting encouragement at them, not dumb enough to backtrack yet, but knowing that if something happens to them, I'll have to. Mags clutches onto my neck a little more tightly, and my shouts at them to hurry up start getting a little more frantic, because they aren't making much progress at all, not compared to the fog.

As I make my way slowly forward, looking over my shoulder every couple of seconds to make sure that the Mockingjay isn't hurt, the fog starts to effect me. I can't scream anymore without inhaling it, and I can feel my face starting to tingle. Back behind me, I can see that Katniss and Peeta are both struggling, Peeta tripping every few seconds. There's no way that we'll make it if he keeps doing that. I want to scream in frustration. I want to tear my hair out. I want to run, to leave them behind. Instead I stop, wait for them to catch up.

"It's no good," I say, trying to keep desperation out of my voice, "I'll have to carry him. Can you take Mags?" I beg her to say yes. Mags isn't big, but Katniss can't weigh a hundred pounds herself, and even if she can take her, it won't be for long in the fog. All that I can do is pray that the it stops, and soon.

"Yes," she says, her eyes flashing with determination, even though she has no reason to keep Mags alive. I feel a lump in my throat, and I think that's the first time, even after seeing her volunteer for her sister, and watching her risking her life for Peeta's, that I realize just how good the Mockingjay actually is. Her 'yes' is the first time that I look at her as something other than a symbol, and despite the desperation and the fogginess that's working it's way into my head, I vow at that moment that no matter what happens with all of this, I will owe everything to the girl on fire.

Very quickly, I let Mags down and sling Peeta across my back before starting to break a trail through the vines, heading at a diagonal towards the water. Between breaking through the foliage and having a guy who has to weigh almost two hundred pounds on my back, I'm not making very good progress, and the damn fog keeps licking across my skin, burning and numbing and making concentrating on anything hard. I completely lose control of my arms, two of the tridents I'd grabbed tumbling out of my grip as we go, but I don't even consider stopping to pick them up. I can hardly hold onto Peeta, let alone anything else. I hand my last trident up to him and he takes it wordlessly.

Then, not ten yards later, I register Katniss falling, and I swear that my heart leaps into my throat. My eyes are already prickling before she even speaks, because I know that there's only one thing to do, the thing that's been resting in the back of my mind the moment that I saw the fog.

"It's no use," she says hollowly, "Can you take them both? Go on ahead, I'll catch up."

"No," I choke out. "I can't carry them both. My arms aren't working." I stare straight at Mags, the tears now overflowing, images flashing through my head of every single thing she's done for me, echoes of every word that she's spoken, things that have kept me alive at times when I wanted nothing more than to just die. A selfish part of me wants to throw Peeta into the fog, grab Mags and run away, but I know that she'd hate me for it, and it'd ruin everything, and it just wouldn't be right, so I swallow down a sob and force myself to say the hardest words that I've spoken in my entire life. "I'm sorry, Mags. I can't do it."

I'm sorry. Pathetic. I'm letting the woman who was my rock for ten damn years go to her death, and all I can say is I'm sorry.

Then Mags hauls herself off of the ground and walks over to me, meeting my eyes as she plants a kiss on my lips. In that gaze I see a sharpness that's been missing for the last year, and it shows me the kind of thing that words could never say. It shows me forgiveness, and hope, and a fierce love that makes just watching her turn and walk away nearly impossible, but I have to. So I take one last look at the person who I always strived to be, who I never really understood the importance of until that one second, and turn away, not wanting to see her die.

Figuring that Katniss will follow, the fog, the numbness swallowing me up so that I'm not sure if she does, I leave as quickly as I can with my sporadic arms and tear-filled eyes, and broken heart.

As I keep walking, everything loses feeling and meaning until I'm blindly stumbling forward, the fogged sorrow I felt before evaporated completely into a thoughtless instinct to move forward. The burning that seems to eat through my skin even starts going away, until I vaguely resister being unable to continue, falling to the ground in a numb heap. A moment later, something fallings on top of me, sending fresh stabs of pain over my skin. A low groan escapes my throat, and I just lay there, waiting for the fog to kill me, waiting for something to happen.

"It's stopped." I don't know who says it, can't remember who I'm with, and the words feel like they come through a towel, but I know whoever it is has to be talking about the fog, and I can manage to feel relief.

After a few more minutes of sitting and gasping and being unable to move, another voice breaks through.

"Mon-hees."

Mon-hees? I search through my head, wondering a mon-hee is, but nothing quite makes sense. Then I tear my eyes open, and I see the arena, and the beach, and see Katniss and Peeta crawling, and I crawl too, or at least I move forward, because I still can't feel anything in my arms and legs except that painful burning.

Then, the water around the Cornucopia comes into view, and I keep going, knowing that water means relief. I see it rolling up onto the shore and reach my hand out. Then the water laps up onto it, and it's like I touched a an open flame. I roll backwards, away from the water, the blinding pain causing a black tint to appear around my vision before I embrace it, try to get it to cover me completely.

I'm only partially successful. Once again, I slip off, not able to think, but I can still feel. I can feel the burning over and over again, as if someone has stuck me onto a grill, and I moan and try to plead for it to be gone, but my mouth isn't working, because whoever's doing this to me isn't listening.

Then slowly, very slowly, things start making sense. The horrible burning is still there, but I recognize that afterwards comes immense relief, and as the relief comes, my thoughts return. I'm in the arena. Mags is dead. Tearing my eyes open, I see Katniss and Peeta slowly immersing me into the salt water. As I go deeper, the pain continues, but water makes my head clearer and clearer, and I almost regret being helped, because my thoughts instantly settle on Mags.

People close to me have died before, obviously. I've received my mother's head as an engagement gift. I've watched one of the most magnificent girls I know I'll ever meet get stabbed in the back, and held her hand while she died. I've returned from a trip to the Capitol to find one of my best friends had been shot dead, and then was forced to watch another one slowly deteriorate immediately after. This is different, though. Mags is different. She was always there. With all those other people, there was always anger and confusion and fighting and times when I wouldn't talk to them, or in Arowana's case, there was the simple fact that I knew we'd die anyway.

But with Mags, she was the one who I went to when I wanted to solve those problems, not who gave them to me. When I decided to be a dumbass for a while, she slapped me and woke me up. When Annie went crazy, it was her who wouldn't let me give up. Hell, when I went crazy, it was her. With everything, it was always her. She kept me alive through my Games, she helped me find a reason to live after them. I owe her my life, I owe her Annie, my happiness, everything. I loved her.

And not an hour ago, I watched her walk to her death.

"There's just your head left, Finnick. That's the worst part, but you'll feel much better after, if you can bear it," Peeta says, and I want to shake my head, to tell him that he's wrong, that I won't feel better after he gets rid of the last of the pain, before then I won't have anything to distract me from something that hurts so much worse.

Only that sounds pitiful, and horrible, and Mags died for a reason. I'm in the arena, I have a mission, and if I mope, I won't be the only one who'll suffer.

I take a deep breath and dunk my head under the water, relaxing at the feeling of being somewhere so familiar. The taste of it on my lips, the way that it makes me feel so much lighter. Thoughts of swimming with Annie and Daisy, memories of wrestling with Rafe, or diving for shellfish, fill my head, and I do everything I can to focus on those instead of Mags

As I slowly regain feeling in my limbs, I start swimming around, slowly at first, then trying the strokes I used to try to impress Annie, diving and rolling and spinning around as I imagine the small smile that I know she'll have on her face watching.

I can still remember, swimming with her before we were both messed up, back when I was maybe fifteen, before I'd really felt what Snow could do, when I had a crush on her, but was too afraid to say anything.

I was going crazy, jumping in the air, spiraling through the water, feeling like just a normal person when I watched her giggle and laugh as she floated around in the shallows, watching me with entertained eyes. Then, I got some crazy idea in my head, and took a huge gulp of air before diving down and deciding not to come up. A minute or so passed, and I could hear her starting to worry, telling me that this wasn't funny, that she was worried and she'd kill me for this stupid joke.

Then, when she was on the verge of freaking out, I popped up directly in front of her and scared the living daylights out of the poor girl, which got me a pretty good telling off.

Just as I'm thinking that, I catch a glimpse of Katniss, doing the same thing, watching me interestedly from the shallow water. So, figuring that right now I kind of need a good laugh, and hoping that maybe Annie will remember, and it'll show her that I'm thinking of her, that I'm okay, I take a huge breath and go under. And stay under. And stay under.

Then, when my lungs are about ready to burst, I shoot out of the water right in front of Katniss Everdeen's face, and the Mockingjay just about takes off.

"Don't do that," she says breathlessly, glaring at me. I manage to get something like a smile on my face when I feel the dull ache in my heart at the thought that Mags would be grinning at me right now, and that Annie no doubt is grinning at me.

"What? Come up or stay under?" I ask. She gets a look on her face like she's about to yank her hair out.

"Either. Neither. Whatever. Just soak in the water and behave. Or if you feel this good, let's go help Peeta."

I really don't want to leave, but she's right. It's not exactly fair to be swimming around while he hacks away at a tree, so the both of us walk over to the jungle to follow him. I send one last glance in the direction of the water, then another at the sky, sending a small smile upwards, hoping it reaches Mags. Hoping that she knows I'm never going to forget about her.


	10. Monkees

A/N- Sorry about the long wait. My team got to State and I just spent four days without a laptop, and the days before that going to crazy long practices and film sessions. I'm back now, though, and the season is done, so my updates will be more frequent from now on, and I won't be cutting off in crazy spots to make as many different updates as I can.

At the moment, I'm guessing, or at least hoping, the Catching Fire portion of this will be done in less than a month, and then I'll take a small break before starting the Mockingjay half, which is what I'm really excited to write, since it gives me a lot more freedom to work with, instead of just recopying the scenes from the book, which is kind of restricting. Well, I think that's everything. Please read, enjoy, and review. I really, reall appreciate it, and it helps me update faster.

Thank you

* * *

We've barely walked into the trees when Katniss puts her arm gently on mine. I look over at her and see that she's looking at something in the trees. As cautiously as possible, I follow her gaze. Monkeys, lots of monkeys. They don't exactly look friendly either. I'd bet anything that they're mutts. Very cautiously, I adjust my trident in my hand.

"Peeta. I need your help with something," Katniss says, a note of panic to her voice, although I can tell she's trying hard to stay calm.

"Okay, just a minute. I think I've about got it," he says, not looking away from the tree. "Yes, there. Have you got the spile?" Okay, I'm not in the best of moods, and Peeta's thick head is making it extremely hard not to trample through the forest and carry him out. He has to be deaf, not to hear the panic in her voice.

"I do. But we've found something you'd better take a look at," she says cautiously. "Only move toward us very quietly, so you don't startle it."

Finally, I can see that he realizes something is messed up by the way he turns from the tree a little bit too casually.

"Okay," he says, using the same false tone of calm that Katniss had been.

Then Peeta is slowly making his way over to us, and it seems like every step could detonate a mine, because something about the way the monkeys are sitting is making them look like the littlest thing could trigger them, and Peeta's crashing steps are anything but little.

Only they don't move, and I find myself starting to relax despite everything, because he's coming forward, and after a while he's only twenty yards from the shore, then fifteen, then… then he looks up, only for a fraction of a second, but it's enough, because at that moment, every single one of the monkeys seem to jump at him all at once.

"Mutts!" Katniss spits out as both of us crash through the trees to get into something of a circle with Peeta.

Then I can feel it again, the same thing happening that did when I killed the guy from Five, the feeling that overtook me during the end of my last Games, where I turn more into a machine than a person, and I just slip into a mode where my body acts for me, spearing the monkeys before I can tell myself to, then flinging them aside for the next one.

The only time I'd ever had so many targets before was when I was fourteen, mowing through dummies at my private session with the Gamemakers, striving to impress, to show that I wasn't just a sweet little boy. Except this time, they aren't dummies, and I don't think anyone has been under the impression that I was anything sweet for a very, very long time.

I deflect monkey after monkey, hardly noticing Katniss and Peeta at all, completely immersed into hacking away at the monkeys. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see something, no, someone, jump out of nowhere. My first instinct is that it's a Career, and I have to lunge at it, but there's already a monkey on the end of my trident, and by the time I clean it off, I manage to turn and catch a sight of the surviving morphling addict from District 6 collapse in front of Peeta.

I only give that a glance, my head still into the fight, my body still pumping with adrenaline like only the Games can give, before I turn back and look for more monkeys. Only they're retreating, going away, like all they wanted was a sacrifice, and now that a life has been giving, they're happy to go.

"Come on, then! Come on!" Peeta shouts, panting and very pissed off, but I know that they're done. Just as he finishes his words, the last of the monkeys disappear.

"Get her," Katniss orders Peeta, nodding towards the limp form of the woman from District 6. "We'll cover you."

Peeta gently lifts her off the ground, and Katniss and I escort him out of the forest, weapons ready, even though the attack is clearly finished. The only sign that the monkeys were there at all are the orange carcasses that litter the grounds, the blood that stains the spongy earth.

My heart still thudding rapidly in my chest, I take one last look at the body-covered ground before turning to the dying woman. Katniss cuts away her jumpsuit, revealing four deep, but mostly clean puncture wounds. No skin jagged or torn, only a slow trickle of blood. They look harmless. Anyone who's watched the Games at all knows better. They're right above her ribcage, and I'm guessing they got through, meaning that something vital was ruptured. Possibly even her heart.

I stare at her, biting my lip as I think of just exactly why she sacrificed her life. For the cause, for Katniss, for Peeta. People falling over themselves so that those two people can live, so that the rebellion can live.

Will I be next?

"I'll watch the tree," I mutter, already walking away, not wanting to consider the possibility, even less than I want to think about what would've happen if she hadn't been hiding there. It would've been my fault. I was supposed to protect them, and instead Peeta only avoided getting killed by chance. Yes, there was nothing I could have done, but still… it feels like I let him down, like it was my fault that she died.

Then I immediately look for something to do, something to get my mind off of that, because playing the blame game will do absolutely nothing for my state of mind. I've been responsible for so many deaths that even if it was my fault, it shouldn't matter. And when I consider that, I realize that it doesn't. Not after I chew it over and process it. Just another person gone, someone I didn't know, unimportant. She chose to jump, to give her life for the cause. Peeta didn't die, mission accomplished. Nothing I could help.

Of course, I have no guarantees of keeping my head so clear for long, so I start walking around, glaring at the bodies of the monkeys, yanking the arrows that Katniss used out of them, figuring she'd want them for later. By the time that I have them all nice and organized, I hear the familiar sound of a hovercraft and know that the woman is gone, that anything that'd trigger unwanted thoughts has been removed. I rejoin Katniss and Peeta.

"Thought you might want these," I tell Katniss, dropping the arrows beside her.

"Thanks," she says, before going down to the water to wash them off. I plop down next to Peeta, giving him a look when I see an extremely sloppy circle traced onto his face with blood.

"She liked painting," he says simply. I start to reply, but the vines in the forest shift with a rustling of leaves, and I grab my trident, holding it up defensively, expecting more monkeys to appear when the vines part. Instead, the bodies are gone.

"What was that about?" Peeta asks. I shrug, rubbing the back of my neck when I realize that the movement is uncomfortable. Actually, now that the adrenaline is gone and everything is quiet, I notice that the places where the fog touched my skin have scabbed over, itching furiously. Making a face, I try not to scratch at them, instead turning my attention to Peeta.

"Maybe they don't want us to eat them," I suggest. He looks at the forest curiously, then turns back around, smiling when he sees Katniss walking towards us. I turn away from the look on his face, not wanting to see the blatant love there, which would no doubt remind me of Annie.

"Where did they go?" Katniss asks, obviously not paying attention to Peeta. I figure it's safe to turn around.

"We don't know exactly. The vines shifted and they were gone," I tell her, reaching up to scratch my face, taking my hand down, then realizing that it doesn't matter. Besides, Peeta's doing the same thing.

For a moment, Katniss looks towards the forest, but when she turns back to us, she gives us a look of disapproval.

"Don't scratch," she orders. "You'll only bring injection. Think it's safe to try for the water again?"

I glare at her, but clasp my hands tightly around my trident to keep from scratching, although after only a second, I'm tempted to just rake my skin off with that instead.

"It should be," Peeta says, referring to her question about the water. I can't find a reason to disagree, so I follow them back into the trees and stand guard while Peeta jimmies the spile into the tree trunk. Eventually, like last time, he has a steady stream of water flowing out.

We all drink enough so that our thirst ebbs, then take turns standing under the water, letting it stream over our itching skin, although in my opinion, it doesn't help at all. That, along with the lack of activity, has me thinking about how miserable this is, and how badly I want to be home, but of how even when we get home, Mags wouldn't be there with me. Not even bothering to try suppressing the thoughts anymore, seeing as there won't be anything to distract me soon enough anyway, those things plague me as we return to the beach, much worse than the itchy skin does.


	11. Making Friends

A/N- Not much to say, other than thanks for reviewing, and I really hope you keep it up. I do apologize for starting and stopping in such strange spots, so I'm sorry if you get confused, but this part of the story just seems to run together, so I don't know what else to do without making huge chapters. Well, please enjoy. :-)

* * *

By the time we get back onto the sandy shore, I'm on the verge of losing it. It's too much, Mags being dead, the war so close to starting, and Annie, off in District 4, with no other rebels anywhere near her.

"Why don't you two get some rest?" Katniss suggests. "I'll watch for a while."

I force myself to focus on her and shake my head. Sleep would be impossible right now. I just want to be alone. Well, as alone as I can be with most of Panem watching me. "No, Katniss. I'd rather." She looks up into my eyes, and I look away quickly, uncomfortably.

"All right, Finnick, thanks," she says, then lies down beside Peeta. I watch her for a moment, judging whether she's really asleep, then bury my face in my hands, trying to hold back tears.

I can feel myself getting ready to fall apart, getting ready to truly comprehend just what it means that Mags is gone, dead, that I'll never see her again. I know that she believed in heaven and hell, but even if there is something after this, there's no way I'm avoiding eternal damnation. It seems like heavy walls are starting to close into me, to box me in.

I can't let that happen, not at the Games, not when there could be people hunting us. Jumping to my feet, I start pacing furiously, staring at the rolling waves, tears streaming down my face.

Eventually, I end up gravitating towards the water. It makes me think of home, of Annie, and Daisy, and even Rafe, despite everything he's put me through. It makes me remember fishing on my father's boats, hanging out with friends on the beach back when I still had them, before the Games wiped them away. I think of laughter and splashing and home and smiles. Without even thinking, I dive in again, letting the cool waves wash over me, soaking my hair. The salt burns my skin, but I don't care. It just feels right.

Like earlier, I start out slowly, just gliding through the water, before I let myself relax again, before I start launching myself through the water, racing easily through the waves. As I swim, I get the strangest feeling of drowning, like I'm choking on thoughts and feelings and memories, but I keep going, because if I stop, it'll be like letting myself sink into a whirlpool. Even though swimming doesn't let me outrun them completely, that I still find myself mourning Mags as I try to escape, it's better than giving in, better than letting myself choke on a blackened past, a mangled present, and a very cloudy looking future.

I'm not sure how long it is before I tire out and end up crawling onto the beach. It must be a while, because the sun is creeping over the horizon while I lie there, feeling somewhat better, although nowhere near as well as I should be.

Then I hear a noise behind me and jerk around, but it's only Peeta, shifting position. I remember that I'm not the only person here, that there are other, more important people who I need to help, and that moping isn't doing anything. With a sigh, I heave myself out of the sand and get to work.

By midmorning, I have a decent shelter erected over Katniss and Peeta, protecting them from the sunlight. Another tree has been tapped, two bowls I wove filled with fresh water, another bursting with shellfish that I decided to collect when I had a little bit of free time.

I'm tired, itch like hell, and haven't managed to get through an hour without crying again. But I'm alive, and Katniss and Peeta are alive, and I say that I can't exactly ask for much more at the moment.

Settling myself into the warm sand, I start idly cracking open shellfish with a rock, ripping the flesh from the shells and popping them in my mouth, trying not to think about anything. After a few moments, I notice Katniss start stirring, looking around quickly before her eyes settle on me, staring for a moment too long.

I look away, hastily holding up a shellfish for her to look at, although she had to have noticed my eyes, which are no doubt red. She doesn't need to focus on the fact that I've been crying.

"They're better fresh," I say, as normally as possible. She reaches for one, thankfully not asking any questions, before she pauses, her eyes settling on her hands. I look too, and manage a weak smile. They're caked with blood, and when I look, I see her arms and face are covered with scratch marks. Seeing her, I try not to think about what I must look like.

"You know, if you scratch, you'll bring on infection," I say, even though there were several times over the night where I completely blew off her advice.

"That's what I've heard," she says before she goes down to the beach to wash off the blood. I pop another piece of the shellfish in my mouth before Katniss stomps rather dramatically back to the beach.

"Hey, Haymitch, if you're not too drunk, we could use a little something for our skin," she snaps. I give her a strange look, which soon turns into another half-smile when I see a parachute actually flying down towards her. Now that is the service that should be given during the Hunger Games.

Katniss walks over to me, a somewhat wistful look on her face, before she replaces it with her usual scowl and plops down beside me. At first, I watch her, impatient for her to finish so that I can go, but then I see what she's actually doing to her skin. The dark goop that she's slathering over her skin smells horrible, not to mention that it leaves a very disgusting greenish-gray tint on her skin. Given the scabbing that's already there, it looks especially nasty. She starts on her second leg and tosses the tube to me. I resist the urge to bat it away, eyeing it carefully.

Okay, I'm not vain, but when you grow up constantly being reminded how godly you look, you kind of get used to it. I'm sure that I'm already bad enough, and I'm not too keen on getting any worse. It bothers me.

"It's like you're decomposing," I inform her, feeling the need to explain myself at her somewhat amused look. I swear that I can see her eyes laughing at me. That, along with the way the itching seems to get worse since I now know that there's something to help, has me opening the tube and squeezing the disgusting ointment across my skin after only a few minutes. I swear that I can see my skin rotting.

"Poor Finnick. Is this the first time in your life you haven't looked pretty?" she asks. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I kind of wonder what all my 'fans' are thinking about this. The thought makes the whole thing seem a lot more bearable.

"It must be. The sensation's completely new. How have you managed it all these years?"

"Just avoid mirrors. You'll forget about it."

"Not if I keep looking at you," I say, but we keep slathering the stuff all over ourselves until we probably look like rotting corpses. At least Katniss does. I pray that I'm not _that _bad, although I'm probably worse, seeing as I took more of the fog.

"I'm going to wake Peeta," Katniss says when we're finished. For a moment I'm going to let her go, but then I get an idea.

"No, wait. Let's do it together. Put our faces right in front of his." I figure that since I have no idea when the next time I'll be able to do something fun is, I might as well go for it while I have to shot.

Both of us position ourselves on either side of Peeta and put our faces only a few inches from his nose. I give him a gentle shake while Katniss says, "Peeta. Peeta, wake up."

His eyelids flutter open and focus for a moment before he jumps quickly backwards, letting out a small scream. The look on his face has me falling back into the sand, laughing my head off. Katniss is right beside me, and every time we try to stop, the look on Peeta's face just sets us off again.

Eventually we manage to pull ourselves together, and I come to the conclusion that Katniss Everdeen isn't just the Mockingjay. She has a human side, behind all her glares and overly self-righteous stunts, behind all the mechanical analyzing she does. Only moments after the thought passes through my head, a silver parachute lands next to us, complete with a fresh loaf of bread.

Thinking of the mission, I immediately grab it and start turning it over in my hands. It can't mean that we have to do something, we don't have Beetee yet, not even Wiress. I do some quick thinking. It's from Four, I know that immediately. That'd mean fourth day. One loaf. First hour. No, they wouldn't start the plan yet, not when there are still so many wildcards to factor in. They'll wait until we find someone from District 3 who can help us, then send the bread.

Remembering the cameras on me, as well as Katniss and Peeta's curious eyes, I say, "This will go well with the shellfish." Both of them give me looks, but I pretend not to notice and walk away from them.

While Katniss and Peeta coat his skin with the ointment, I clean the meat from the shellfish. When we're all finished, we gather around and have something that's a semblance of a peaceful meal.

Except it isn't exactly what I'd consider peaceful, because about ten minutes into the meal, someone starts screaming. Almost as soon as the screams start, one of the wedges of the jungle starts vibrating. Then, moments later, an enormous wave starts high on a hill, reaching higher than the trees before it comes roaring down the slope. Almost like one of the tsunami that hit District Four back when I was ten, it seems to eat up everything it hits until it crashes into the existing water with enough force that the surf rises up to our knees, even though we're across the arena, and sets all of our things afloat.

As we're collecting our things, a cannon fires. I stop for a moment and look towards the sky, wondering if Plutarch is watching me, and wondering if he is, if he can see the desperation in my eyes. That's twelve left. Only three or four that we actually want to kill off. We're running out of time for this plan to work. _Something _needs to happen, and fast.

It's almost funny, how quickly something does happen. Peeta and I are sorting through the supplies we recovered, making sure everything is still there, when Katniss whispers, "there", and nods towards three figures stumbling onto the beach.

Automatically, the three of us retreat back into the shadows of the jungle, before I really even get a chance to look at the trio. When I finally lay eyes on them, though, I can tell instantly that they aren't dangerous. One of them wanders in circles. Another one who can't even walk, is getting dragged out by the last one. All three of them seem to be the color of dried blood, and my first thought is muttations, but that doesn't make sense.

"Who is that? Or what? Muttations?" Peeta asks. I start to answer, to tell them that no, they're tributes, when one of them starts throwing a temper tantrum, stamping on the ground and shoving the one who's walking in circles to the ground. That's when I realize exactly who those tributes are, because I know only one person who throws tantrums like that.


	12. Annoying

A/N- I really have nothing to say. So, I guess just please enjoy and tell me what you think. Thanks.

* * *

"Johanna!" I shout, because I can't help it. I take off for where the three are standing, a smile on my face, because I know that she has Wiress and Beetee with her, because they're the only people who make sense, and with them here, we can finally start working on getting out of here.

"Finnick!" Johanna yells the second she sees me, and I can hear the exasperation in her voice, and have to feel sorry for her, because even though they are smart, having Beetee and Wiress as allies in the arena would entail a lot of babysitting.

"Oh my God," she says the moment she's close enough to see me, her eyes widening dramatically. "What happened to you?" I run a hand through my hair and try not to glare.

"Why? Jealous of my new skin tone? I'm trying some of the Capitol fashions. I see you are too."

She looks down at her skin, which seems to have been dyed a dark, crusty red, and glares at no one in particular.

"Ugh, you do not want to know."

"Well, actually, I do. What exactly happened?"

"We were walking, as in Blight, me, Nuts and Volts, when the storm started. Lightning, clouds, all of that. At first it was a relief. We thought it was rain, you know, because of the lightning, and we were all so thirsty. But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood. Thick, hot blood. You couldn't see, you couldn't speak without getting a mouthful. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it. That's when Blight hit the force field."

I cringe, thinking of what happened to Peeta. Then I remember I'm supposed to be watching him, and just kind of ran off. Thankfully, him and Katniss are now standing right behind me, listening as well. I turn my focus back to Johanna.

"I'm sorry, Johanna," I say, swallowing hard to keep myself from remembering Mags, hoping that she doesn't ask.

"Yeah, well, he wasn't much, but he was from home," she says. "And he left me alone with these two." She nudges a barely conscious Beetee with her foot. "He got a knife in the back at the Cornucopia." I bite my lip, hoping that it's not too deep, because we really need him. "And her-"

She nods to Wiress, and all of us look in her direction. She's still circling around, muttering, "Tick, tock. Tick tock." I cringe. I knew that she was always different, but now she's in shock, nothing but dead weight. Callous to think, yes, but I have bigger goals than saving one life

"Yeah, we know," Johanna says. "Tick, tock. Nuts is in shock." This seems to draw Wiress in her direction, and she rams into Johanna, who shoves her to the beach. "Just stay down, will you?"

"Lay off her," Katniss snaps, and I internally cringe. I hadn't noticed before, but when Johanna turns to face Katniss, I realize that the two of them have something against each other. I'm not sure what, maybe because Katniss has so many people who love her, so many people to love, and Johanna has no one. For whatever reason, the second that Katniss snaps, Johanna narrows her eyes and bears down on her like an angry dog.

"Lay off her?" Johanna hissed. "Who do you think got her out of that bleeding jungle for you-" She's saying too much, in addition to losing her temper. I decide that it's time for her to leave, before her anger issues cause serious problems. I suppose I could try interrupting her, but I don't want her to think I'm taking Katniss's side, because I know that she'll immediately accuse me of that. Instead, I just pick her up and toss her over my shoulder, carrying her out to the water.

She starts calling Katniss a lot of interesting names, using some words that I'm pretty sure are the most graphic things in the Games so far. I dunk her in the water repeatedly, hoping that she'll keep her mouth shut. She doesn't. The cussing continues for the next fifteen minutes, until she finally loses the wind in her sails.

"Are you finally done?" I ask her. Water is dripping into her face, and she's still glaring daggers at Katniss.

"Don't look at me like that," she snaps. "I'm not a child."

"You're acting like one."

"I don't want to be here."

"Does anybody?" She shakes her head.

"I don't mean that. The arena, sickeningly, is fine. I'm sure you don't mind either. I mean I don't want to be with _her._"

"Well, you want to be with me, you're going to have to be with her. I can't exactly just turn my back on her now." She glowers at Katniss again.

"I don't see why not. Just dump Nuts and Volts with her and wait it out."

"That'd be stupid," I tell her, my eyes begging her to shut her too big mouth. She thinks people are too stupid to analyze her words, but I know better than that. Planning to wait it out is unheard of in a Games you don't expect to get out of, and just leaving them would only leave them for us to deal with later. "It'd be better to just kill them now, get it done with. That's low, though. Too low. We'll stick around, wait for a few more people to die, then kill them in their sleep or something."

She stares at me, obviously wanting to say something, but not able to. Finally, she shakes her head.

"At least I'll get better food with you guys around."

"Have you eaten yet?" She shakes her head.

"When would I have had time to get food? I've been babysitting."

"Cut them some slack, Johanna. Beetee is brilliant, and it's not his fault he got stabbed. Wiress is…"

"Nuts."

"Well, yeah, but it's not like that's her fault either. I don't know if either of them are going to be alive much longer, and you should-"

"Don't you dare tell me to help people die more easily. You're the one who captured them in nets, like animals." I take a deep breath, close my eyes. I know she's tired, and hungry, and whatever, but I really need her to quit complaining, or fighting, or insulting everyone she can think of, for just a moment, otherwise she might end up as the next person under one of my nets.

"Johanna," I say, "shut your mouth, or get the hell out of here." She stares at me, and I swear she's going to open her mouth again, but she must see something in my eyes, because she closes it and shakes her head.

"Okay, fine. My mouth is shut. Just don't expect it to stay that way once Katniss starts pulling her righteous shit."

"Is that why you hate her, because she's a good person?"

"I hate her because she's at good everything."

"Jealous?"

"More like annoyed," she says with a bark-like laugh. Then she looks back towards our supplies. "Now please tell me you have food up there. I am dying of starvation."

"Then let's go," I tell her, glad to be returning to Katniss and Peeta's company, so at least she'll probably censor some of her comments.

The moment that Johanna sees the seafood, her eyes flash to it hungrily. I shrug.

"Eat whatever you want. It's not like I can't just get us some more." That's the only invitation she needs to start gulping down water and stuffing the shellfish in her mouth. I see Katniss give her a wary look before she turns to Wiress and starts coaxing food into her.

At first it's quiet, but then Johanna says, her mouth still half full of food, "Now please, explain what's happened to you guys so far."

So, I take a deep breath and start explaining about Peeta and the force field and then start talking about the fog, trying to stay as detached as possible, but my voice still catching before I can explain about Mags. I pause for a moment, take a deep breath, and then hurriedly say, "And after we escaped, our mentors sent us a tube of ointment, which is why we look like this," before I go on to talk about the monkeys.

I can tell that she knows I left something out, but thankfully instead of asking, she just announces that we should get some rest, and asks who wants to stay up and guard. Everyone, or at least everyone who's able to, offers, but eventually Katniss and Johanna end up doing it. Katniss wouldn't let me since I stayed up last night, even though I'm really not that tired, and Johanna started cussing again when I tried to make her sleep, even though I know she's been on her feet since the first day.

But actually, when I do lay down, I realize that I'm more tired than I thought I was. My eyes close of their own accord, and I drift off into a shallow sleep within moments.

In what seems like no time, I feel someone lie down beside me. I carefully open my eyes to see Johanna lying there, her dark brown eyes looking at me carefully.

"Is something wrong?" I mumble, still somewhat tired, even with the sun shining directly down on me.

She doesn't answer at first, just continues to look at me with unreadable eyes. Finally, she kisses my forehead softly and gives me a sad smile that I've never seen on her before. It looks strangely normal on her pretty, somewhat child-like face. It fits much better than her usual scowl.

"What? Can't I just check you out without any questions being asked?" she asks playfully, but her eyes are still steely and emotionless.

"You sure you're okay?" She sighs.

"Lord, just go back to sleep, okay? I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Um. Okay?"

"Good," she says, then turns around so she's facing the opposite direction. I send one last strange look her way, then squeeze my eyes shut again, hoping to get another few hours of sleep.


	13. Canaries

It's not very much later when I'm getting roughly shaken awake. "Get up," Katniss says, and I'm sitting in an instantly, a trident in my hand, looking around, but I don't see anything. She's shaking Johanna and Peeta now, saying, "Get up- we have to move."

"Why?" I ask. Johanna sits up lazily, Peeta jerking up, then looking around in confusion when he sees that nothing's going on.

"Because, I think that the fog is going to come back really soon, and we have to move."

"Um, why would you think that?" I ask, staring nervously at the jungle.

"Because, I figured out what Wiress has been saying."

"Yeah?" Johanna asks. "I had no idea that you could speak crazy." I elbow her and she shuts her mouth with a glare.

"She's been trying to tell us that the arena is a clock," Katniss says, ignoring Johanna's. I give Katniss a strange look.

"A clock?"

"Yes," she says, waving her hand across the spokes of land that branch out around the ocean. "Look. Each wedge is like a section of the arena. Each section is rigged to have some new horror at a certain hour. The tree always gets struck by lighting every two hours. And look at the monkeys. They just left after a while, like they had enough. Except that wasn't it. It was time for their hour to end."

I take all of this in, thinking it through in my head. She's right. There does seem to be a kind of symmetry to everything that happens in here. Strange, but I can see exactly how Plutarch is behind it. His mind works like that as well, in sections, everything having its own place and time.

"I think she's right," I voice. Peeta nods. Beetee is still too groggy to care, and Wiress is sleeping. That leaves only Johanna to object.

"Even the Capitol can't be stupid enough to give us something so easy to figure out." I give her a warning look. She has to watch her mouth if she wants to come out of here alive.

"Johanna, there's no reason that we can't just move," I plead. "It's better safe than sorry."

She grudgingly agrees, and we all pack up our things, double-checking that we have everything. When we're ready, Peeta picks up Beetee to go, but he tries to object.

"Wire," he says.

"She's right here. Wiress is fine. She's coming, too," Peeta tells him. Beetee doesn't listen. I start to wonder if he isn't starting to go a little crazy, too, and for a moment I'm scared that both of the 'geniuses' that are supposed to be getting us out are going to go whacko before the Games are done.

"Wire," he insists. I start to say something, but Johanna jerks her head up.

"Oh, I know what he wants," she says impatiently, then hurries back down to the beach where Katniss and Peeta must have washed him. When she returns, she's holding a spool of thread-like wire.

"This worthless thing. It's some kind of wire or something. That's how he got cut, running up to the Cornucopia to get this. I don't know what kind of weapon it's supposed to be. I guess you could pull off a piece and use it as a garrote or something. But really, can you imagine Beetee garroting somebody?"

I immediately realize that not only was she told more about this plan than I was, but that she's playing stupid for a reason. Beetee won his Games making a huge electrical trap and frying up the other tributes. I'm not sure how, but that wire is what's getting us out of here, I'm positive. Well, as long as Johanna doesn't make her ignorance too obvious, which she's kind of doing. She nicknamed him Volts. The people of the Capitol aren't as stupid as she thinks they are.

Apparently Peeta isn't either.

"He won his Games with wire. Setting up that electrical trap. It's the best weapon he could have."

"Seems like you'd have figured that out. Since you nicknamed him Volts and all," Katniss continues, her tone accusatory. Johanna, before looking at Katniss, glares at me likes it's my fault that she was the one playing stupid. Then she turns her glower towards Katniss.

"Yeah, that was really stupid of me, wasn't it? I guess I must have been distracted by keeping your little friends alive. While you were… what again? Getting Mags killed off?"

It feels like I've been smacked in the chest, her mentioning it so callously like that. Out of instinct, my grip on my trident tightens, and I'm dangerously close to sending it through her stomach. She doesn't even look at me, though. It's Katniss she wants to egg on, and it's clearly working. The Mockingjay's reaction is identical to mine, her fingers holding onto the handle of her knife so tight that they're turning white.

"Go ahead. Try it. I don't care if you are knocked up. I'll rip your throat out," says Johanna. The idea of impaling her is starting to get better and better, especially because I realize that she's serious. Her anger is getting the better of her, and she's going to do something stupid if it doesn't stop, and quickly. Since Peeta is just watching the whole thing with wide eyes, I step forward, trying to get in between them.

"Maybe we all had better be careful where we step," I say, looking at Katniss, because I know Johanna would just make a bigger deal out of everything if she thought I was blaming her. Not to mention that at least Katniss would listen.

I gently pry the coil of wire from Johanna fingers, while she shoots me a dirty look for interrupting. Forcing a smile, I hand the coil to Beetee. "There's your wire, Volts. Watch where you plug it."

Peeta seems to relax, and steps forward to pick up Beetee. I release my breath in a whoosh of air, glad that it seems like everyone is going to come out of the argument in one piece. Protecting Katniss from other tributes it hard enough. Keeping Johanna Mason, who has extreme anger issues, from killing her? That's a little more difficult.

"Where to?" Peeta asks, ready to take the lead.

"I'd like to go to the Cornucopia and watch. Just to make sure we're right about the clock," I say, hoping to appease Johanna after breaking up a fight that she was obviously overly eager to start. Maybe if we can at least figure out the clock thing is right, she'll start to at least respect Katniss.

"I guess we don't have anywhere else to go," Katniss says. Peeta and Johanna agree, and we all head to the Cornucopia, carefully, just incase someone is hiding inside, but the whole beach area is deserted.

When we reach the Cornucopia, we all take a seat in some of the shade that it provides. Beetee leans forward and sets the coil of wire in Wiress's hands.

"Clean it, will you?" he asks. She scampers over to the water's edge and starts cleaning the wire, singing some funny little song. I'm tempted to tell her to shut up, incase anyone's listening, but it's not like it matters anyway. In fact, it'd probably be better if she attracted people. The less people after the Mockingjay, the better.

"Oh, not that song again," Johanna says, rolling her eyes. "That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking."

I lean over, so that my lips are right in front of my ear and Katniss and Peeta can't hear me.

"You don't have to bitch and moan about everything," I whisper, knowing that she'd never listen if Katniss and Peeta heard. She'd think that they'd think it meant I had control over her. At least if I whisper, I hope she'll listen. It's obvious that she doesn't even consider it. The only answer she gives me is a fierce glare. I'm about to try talking to her again when Wiress bolts up, pointing to the jungle.

"Two," she says. Johanna gives me a look that clearly says 'See? Look what I've been dealing with'. I ignore it and follow Wiress's finger to where she's pointing. Fog is just seeping out onto the beach.

"Yes, look, Wiress is right. It's two o'clock and the fog has started."

"Like clockwork," Peeta says. "You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress."

She smiles and goes back to singing. Johanna sends her a glower that she doesn't even notice. "Oh, she's more than smart," Beetee says. "She's intuitive."

Everyone turns to look at him, and he continues speaking. "She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines." I turn to look at Katniss.

"What's that?"

"It's a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there's bad air."

"What's it do, die?" Johanna asks. I groan. I have never had to spend this much time with her at once. Already, it's grating on me. I'm tempted to pull out my hair. Extremely tempted. If I wasn't already so ugly, I probably would.

"It stops singing first. That's when you should get out. But if the air's too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you." Then she turns away, obviously not wanting to continue. Johanna stays sitting for a while, fidgeting back and forth, before getting up and messing around with the weapons.

I watch with a vague interest as she throws axes, sticking them easily into the sun-softened metal of the Cornucopia. I remember the first time I saw her throw an axe, a few years ago, before I knew how lethal she was. I remember feeling sorry for her, just because she was so pitiful. I have no idea how I ever fell for that act.

After a while, I get bored of just sitting around and start poking through the weapons, even though I can't imagine using anything other than a trident. Still, I pick up a few things, figuring that they'll come in handy. Johanna does the same, until I feel like a walking weapon arsenal. I guess it's better safe than sorry.

When we're finished, the two of us walk over to where Katniss and Peeta are drawing on a big leaf, making a map of the arena.

"And ten to eleven is the wave," she's saying as we walk over. Then she sits back and addresses Beetee and Johanna. "Did you notice anything unusual in the others?"

"Nothing but blood. Lot's of blood," Johanna says. Katniss sighs.

"I guess they could hold anything," she tells Peeta.

"I'm going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers' weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we'll stay clear of those," says Peeta. He draws diagonal lines on the fog and wave beaches. "Well, it's a lot more than we knew this morning anyway."

We all nod in agreement. That's when I can tell that something's off. It's dead quiet. Wiress has stopped singing.

* * *

A/N- Okay, I know that you're all going to kill me for this, but I have officially run out of all pre-written material in this story. That, despite meaning that I've been horribly lazy, also means that although I hope to continue with weekly updates, that may not happen, especially with track meets already popping up next week. So, if it's been a week and you see nothing, it doesn't mean that I've given up on you. It means that I'm searching for time to write.

Despite my laziness however, I do really appreciate all the people favoriting and reviewing this, and I hope that it continues. Thank you.


	14. Attacked

A/N- Not too late, I don't think. It would've been up last night, but I had to take ACT's this morning, and figured that it'd be smart to go to bed at a decent time. I hope it doesn't seem to rushed, but there's not much that I can change POV wise, since it's just a bunch of action, and he's never separated from Katniss for very long, so, because of that, it's more or less what happened in the book, with as much Finnick as I could get in.

Don't worry, though. The Jabberjays are coming up next chapter, and that'll finally be another opportunity for Finnick to have some star-time. After that, I'm expecting it to go by a lot more easily, especially in Mockingjay, where I'll have so much more freedom. I love writing Finnick like I did at the start of this, where he has more opportunities to be Finnick, sense during this part, it's harder to put in his biting humor or flirtatiousness, and I can't make him the Finnick from Fishing for People either, since he has to protect Katniss and Peeta and that changes almost everything. I love the part that Katniss has during this period in the story, but even though Finnick is definitely there, I so would've put him more front and center J. Whatever. Like I said, it'll start flowing more easily again very soon.

Oh, and in regards to the typos and whatever in my last chapter, and maybe this one, if anyone gives me specific places that really bother you, I'll go and change it. Then, when I'm finished with the Catching Fire portion of this story, I'll proofread and correct the whole thing, which will take a couple weeks, before continuing onto the second part of the story, so all of that will eventually be fixed.

Lastly, since I'm usually really lazy with my thank-yous, I'm listing everyone who's ever reviewed the story. Oh, and in advance, an extra thanks to all the amazing, really nice people who review almost every chapter. So, thanks to-

**brooke13243546, Hahukum Kahn, RueofDistrict11, GraceVictoria, Where the**_** Story Ends, Daydreaming Viking Girl, EStrunk, Cat60041x3, Brooke, Peace-Love-Apples, Grace, KateTheFanFictionist, Sonofhell666, suicidalmickeymouse7, KaiteeBug, Dibbly88, eViLIsabelle, Anchors Away, writtenepiphany, TasAnshana, and Nobody in Particular. **_

Alright, now that my freakishly long Author's Note is done, please enjoy. Oh, and please point out typos or things that don't make sense, since I was kind of tired typing this, not to mention a little bit rushed. Thanks.

* * *

After that, it seems like a million things start happening at once, too fast to capture any specific images. Katniss is firing arrows, Wiress falls dead, and Johanna swings an ax at someone.

My instincts kicking in, wanting to fight, war with the knowledge that I have to protect Peeta and Katniss. I'm torn for just a second, and then I see Brutus throw a spear directly at Peeta's heart, at exactly the same time Enobaria lunges at me.

I bite back the instinct to save my self and stick out my trident, blocking the spear instead of shoving it through Enobaria's heart. I still have time to take a quick step back, but it's not far enough and I can feel the razor sharp knife cut through a layer of skin.

I jump backwards, landing awkwardly on my leg, as the cannon booms three times. Counting Wiress, that makes two dead Careers, and Enobaria and Brutus are still alive. So Gloss and Cashmere are dead. I feel a dull pang in my heart, just for a moment, thinking about the few times that we had talked, remembering that Snow used them exactly like he used me.

Then my sense of self-preservation takes over, and I can't give it anymore thought than that, because really, they were trying to kill me, trying to kill the Mockingjay, and it's better them than me, than Katniss or Peeta.

I watch for a moment, assessing the situation. Katniss is chasing Brutus and Enobaria, Peeta following close behind. Johanna is yanking her ax out of Cashmere's chest, no work to do.

I immediately set after Katniss and Peeta. The two tributes from District Two are sprinting ahead full speed, not looking back. They know Katniss has to stop and load, that Peeta isn't good with any distance weapons, but they aren't paying attention to me.

I automatically recognize Brutus as the bigger threat, and raise my trident to throw. It's just about out of my hands when the ground jerks out from beneath my feet and I'm flung forward into the sand, my trident slipping out of my fingers and onto the ground.

The circle of land around the Cornucopia is spinning, fast. The centrifugal force is pulling me towards the water, and there's nothing to grab on to, no way to stay on land. The forest and ocean are all just a blur, but I can feel the cold water spraying at my feet. The place where Enobaria slashed me in the leg is burning like hell, and my head feels like it's going to explode.

I'm seconds away from getting tossed into the water when the whole thing slams to a stop. My body jerks forward, and I get a nice mouthful of wet sand.

For a moment I just sit there, collect my bearings, then slowly sit up when the initial dizziness starts to fade.

My first thought is, sadly, my trident. I look out at the water, and that's when I see the three dead bodies floating around, and my priorities straighten out again. Immediately my eyes flash around the Cornucopia, looking for Katniss. She's fine. Peeta, too.

When they're located, I spare Johanna a glance, knowing that she'd be fine, anyway, probably more pissed off at the Gamemakers than anything.

Then, still wondering what in the hell is going to happen to me without a weapon, Johanna says, "Where's Volts?"

I leap to my feet, a little too quickly, cursing under my breath. He's just as important as Katniss at the moment, because without him, only one of us is getting out alive, and I'm not sure that she would do anything without Peeta.

Just as I finish praying to myself that he's not dead, I catch a glimpse of him about sixty feet out in the water, flailing around like a dying goldfish.

Really? He's probably fifty times as smart as I am, and he doesn't realize that flailing like that is just about the dumbest thing he can do.

Without a word, I jump into the cool water to haul him in, despite the protests from my leg.

I kind of feel like his babysitter.

Beetee is silent, and not really that conscious, when I get out to him. I can see it in his eyes, though, that he knows Wiress is dead. With a sigh, I throw him onto my shoulder and take off back towards the shore.

After watching Beetee spurt out water for a while, Katniss steps forward and sets the reel of wire the Wiress had been cleaning in his lip. At first I wonder where she got it from, but then I see that her hair is dripping wet, so I figure that she swam after it.

That little fact gets me worked up and then relaxed again in about a five second span. I hadn't even remembered that Wiress had it, that it would've been taken out into the water with her body, and that stupid wire has to be as important as Beetee, at least. I'm sure that's how he is going to get us out of the arena, and I completely forgot about it.

What a great protector I've been. I let four Careers sneak up on us while we were doodling on a leaf, I let the only person other than Beetee who could possibly help us get her throat slit, thought about my trident before helping out the people I was supposed to protect, and I almost saved myself rather than help Peeta.

I can't help but shake my head. Mags died for the rebellion, died to save Peeta, and now I'm acting foolish and selfish and complacent when I absolutely cannot afford to do so. Wiress is dead because I wasn't paying attention, and it could have been so much worse.

While I'm thinking all of those things over, everyone else is silent, too. Probably about Wiress. That's another testament to how pathetic I am. They're actually mourning. I'm wallowing in self-pity.

The silence stretches on for another minute, and I just stand there, trying not to think, ignoring the stinging were the knife got me, not paying attention to the blood trickling down my leg and pooling in the sand by my feet.

Then Johanna finally speaks. "Let's get off this stinking island."

And since it's not like there's anything else we can do, we listen. I look around and eventually find two of my tridents and a few knives scattered around.

Then, while the others finish getting our stuff together, I take off my undershirt and tie it around my leg, which at least stops the bleeding, even if my undershirt is sweaty and filthy and probably not too healthy to have on an open wound. That also leaves me with nothing to protect me from the sun, since my wetsuit was completely ruined by the fog. The green ointment does help with that a little, though, so I don't try to find anything else.

After everything is ready, we discuss everything for a moment, eventually deciding to head to twelve o'clock. That'd give us hours with nothing to worry about, other than tributes, and keep us far away from the fog.

Only when we set off for that wedge, I head one way, Peeta and Johanna branch off in two separate directions, and Katniss and Beetee hesitate in the middle.

I groan and turn around.

"Twelve o'clock, right?" Peeta asks. "The tail points to twelve."

"Before they spun us," I argue. "I was judging by the sun."

"The sun only tells you it's going on four, Finnick," Katniss says. I start to ask why that matters, but Beetee adds on to her explanation.

"I think Katniss's point it, knowing the time doesn't mean you necessarily know where four is on the clock. You might have a general idea of the direction. Unless you consider that they may have shifted the outer ring of jungle as well," Beetee says.

That, I understand. Katniss nods with him.

"Yes, so any one of these paths could lead to twelve o'clock," she says, which if those two had actually known that, I don't know why they let us plan everything out and agree to go to twelve when they don't know where in the hell it is.

The five of us circle around the Cornucopia, basically staring down the jungle, looking for any signs of something going on, so we can figure out where we're at. It all looks the same, though.

When we pause to suggest what to do next, Katniss remembers that every day and night at twelve, a tall tree gets hit by lightning, but every sector has a tree just like that, and we'd have to wait another eight hours to know which one is right, which we can't exactly afford to do.

Then Johanna suggests following Enobaria and Brutus's tracks, but they're already washed away. That leaves us nothing to go on at all.

"I should have never mentioned the clock," Katniss says bitterly. "Now they're taken that advantage away as well."

"Only temporarily. At ten, we'll see the wave again and be back on track," says Beetee.

"Yes, they can't redesign the whole arena," Peeta adds.

"It doesn't matter," Johanna says, her voice growing impatient. "You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless." Then, with one more glare at Katniss, she addressed everyone. "Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?"

With that, we randomly chose a path and take it, completely blind as to where we're going to end up. When we reach the jungle, we all look inside, searching for some clue as to where we're at.

This whole thing, not knowing everything about my surroundings, drives me crazy with worrying. Any second, the fog could start, or the wave, and everything that we've been working for would have been useless, and the rebellion would be as dead as us.

Apparently no one else is worrying about that, though, because they don't seem terribly worried.

"Well, it must be monkey hour. And I don't see any of them in there," Peeta says after a moment. "I'm going to try to tap a tree."

After realizing how bad I've been doing at protecting them, not to mention just knowing that Peeta kind of has a thing for attracting trouble, I put a hand on his arm.

"No, it's my turn."

"I'll at least watch your back," he argues.

"Katniss can do that," says Johanna. "We need you to make another map. The other washed away."

I'm kind of impressed, that she managed to think of something to keep him out of the forest like that. I'm still not thrilled with Katniss coming, but Peeta is the main one who needs protecting, and besides, if Katniss stayed with Johanna, she'd most likely end up with an ax in her head, anyway. At least Johanna doesn't seem to hurt Peeta.

"Well, okay," Peeta says, but I don't miss the look he gives Katniss, and I definitely don't miss the suspicion in her eyes. Before she can think about it more, though, I hurry forward, and she follows after me.


	15. Jabberjays

A/N- Hah, a day earlier than I expected, and you'll never guess why. I had a snow day, today, in the middle of April. I was kind of mad, since it was literally seventy degrees outside two days ago, but I'm not complaining about the day off. It helped me catch up on this story, and get started on a new one. It's another Hunger Games fic called Sibling Rivalry, which has different characters and a different plot than any Hunger Games stories that I've seen. If you're nice, you'll check out the first chapter. Please.

Other than that, not much to say. I guess I hope you enjoy, I love all of you for the reviews, and please keep telling me what you think.

* * *

Once we're about fifteen yards into the jungle, I get to work on the tree. I'm not sure why, but for some reason my gut is twisting painfully, telling me to get the hell out of there.

I ignore it. I'm just paranoid, nervous, whatever. Katniss seems fine, and she's a lot more used to being in forests that I am. Maybe that's it, the whole forest thing. I just don't like being closed in by so many trees. Even in my Games, there weren't half this many trees.

Once I've got a decent hole in the tree, I turn to Katniss and ask for the spile. She cuts the vine and starts to hand me the spile.

That's when I hear it. A high-pitched squeal, the scream of a little girl, frighteningly like a sound that Daisy would make. It's not her, though, I can see that. I can also see in the Mockingjay's eyes exactly who it is.

She drops the spile and takes off, darting into the trees, and even as my head fills with a million questions, I sprint after her, calling her back, my trident raised, ready to take down anyone who jumps out of the shadows.

I'm sure that people do hear us, it'd be impossible not to. She's screeching for her sister, her voice so full of pain that it hurts to listen to.

She's trampling through the trees, leaving an easy path to follow, and despite her head start, I catch up to her within minutes.

By the time that I get to her, though, she's calmed down. She has a bloody arrow in her hand, and even though she's pale, she looks fine.

"Katniss?" I ask worriedly.

"It's okay. I'm okay," she says. "I thought I heard my sister but-"

Her words are cut off by another scream, and suddenly I don't care about anything that Katniss has to say, because I would recognize that sound anywhere.

Suddenly time rewinds itself a couple years, and I'm perched in Annie's windowsill, late at night, listening to her scream, not knowing what to do. Listening to her yell in terror because of everything that Snow had done to her.

This is the same sound, except worse. Filled with pain and hopelessness and completely free from sanity.

With only a moment of confused hesitation, I start sprinting towards the sound, because I know that it's Annie, and that I have to save her. I hear Katniss calling after me, but I don't care. I _have _to reach Annie.

"Annie!" I shout, letting her know that I'm near, that I'm coming, that whatever is hurting her is going to pay for it.

The screams start growing closer, more immediate, and I push myself to run faster, not worried about the other tributes, or even worried about dying. I just need to save Annie.

I scream her name again and again, shouting for her until I finally reach her voice. It's coming from the top of a giant tree, one that I know I'll never be able to climb. The limbs don't begin until twenty feet up.

My stomach clenches with hopelessness. I can't reach her, can't get to her. She could be dying up there. They might be torturing her. And I can't do a thing. I've never felt so useless, so horribly useless in my entire life.

Then the screaming stops, and a bird lands right at my feet, and arrow through its breast. I swallow hard and take a shaky breath, picking it up in my hands.

It isn't hard to recognize. A jabberjay. The sounds were coming from a mutt. For half a moment, I relax. Then I remember something. Jabberjays don't make random noises. They pick them up from what they hear.

I close my eyes and force myself to take a deep breath. Now, not only are they torturing her, but I can't reach her. They have her, and there's nothing that I can do about it.

Snow figured something out, he knows that this isn't going to be just another Games. He knows that I'm up to something. And he took Annie for it. He's probably torturing her for information.

"It's all right, Finnick. It's just a jabberjay. They're playing a trick on us. It's not real. It's not your… Annie," Katniss says, appearing beside me. I hadn't noticed her arrive, but I shouldn't be surprised.

"No, it's not Annie. But the voice was hers. Jabberjays mimic what they hear. Where did they get those screams, Katniss?"

Her face pales at she realizes exactly what I'm saying. When she speaks next, her voice is filled with terror. "Oh, Finnick, you don't think they…"

"Yes. I do. That's exactly what I think," I say dully.

With that, she sinks to the ground. I don't think that I've ever seen the Mockingjay look that defeated. She looks tortured, and I see something in her that I've never seen before.

Even though she's good at hiding it, she's broken, just like the rest of us, and if she sits here and listens to the screams, she could break completely.

"Katniss, we have to go," I say, trying to make my dead voice sound urgent. "We can't help them. It's best to just get out of here."

She doesn't hear a word that I'm saying, though. Her face is buried in her hands, and she doesn't react to anything I try to do. She doesn't even move, not until another scream breaks through the trees.

At first, I think that it's Peeta's, and a part of me is hopeful, knowing that they can't get his screams, wondering if maybe it just is a trick. Then I realize that it's deeper than his voice, that it's sharper and more hoarse.

I can't place it, but Katniss knows it immediately, getting onto her feet and starting to run, shouting, "Gale!" at the top of her lungs. I manage to snag her arm as she tries to blow by me.

I realize who's voice it is, now. The one who Haymitch said Katniss actually loves, not Peeta, but the other one. Her 'cousin'. I swallow. How many people did they take?

My thoughts flash to Daisy, threaten to settle on Annie. Then I shake my head, forcing the images out of my brain. I can't be selfish, not now. I have to protect the Mockingjay.

"No. it's not him." I start to pull her downhill, back to the beach, but she struggles. "We're getting out of here," I snap.

She ignores me, keeps struggling and kicking and begging for me to let her go. "It's not him, Katniss. It's a mutt!" I shout, trying to get through to her. "Come on!"

She still refuses to move, and I resort to basically carrying her through the trees, Annie's screams still echoing through my ears. I want to give up. I want to just let myself die now, so that I can get that stupid noise out of my mind, so that I don't have to think of any of the pictures that I'm getting, pictures of Capitol slaves getting her to make those sounds.

I want to leave Katniss, to let her run away, so that I don't have an excuse to keep going. I don't, though, because dying won't help Annie at all. Katniss dying because of me would be even worse. I'd let an entire nation down, because of how weak I am.

I push myself forward, away from Gale's voice, back towards the beach. Eventually Katniss does stop fighting and walks forward willingly, her back stiff and her face completely agonized.

Then, finally, I can see Johanna and Peeta waiting at the tree line. I hustle forward, eager to get out before more screaming starts, wanting to leave before it gets worse.

I don't even notice the wall into I run smack into it and fall back onto the jungle floor. I could feel my nose break. Blood starts gushing down my face within seconds, but I don't make any move to stop it. Maybe I'll lose enough to pass out. That'll be better than what I know is coming.

It's clear that this wall isn't going anywhere, not until the end of the hour. I'm not sure what Plutarch is doing at the moment, but I know that the other Gamemakers aren't going to let end yet. It's only going to get worse.

Thinking of that, I collapse against the wall, facing away from the beach and burying my face in my hands, ignoring the protests from my nose. Blood seeps between my hands, into my mouth, but I hardly notice because at about that time, I can hear the birds start to arrive.

I plan on keeping my face buried, hidden, because I know that this isn't going to be something that I want Panem to see, but after a bird screeches out in Daisy's voice, and then Annie's joins it, what Panem thinks becomes a lot less important.

I curl up into a ball, clenching my hands over my years, trying to keep the sounds out of my head, but it's impossible. They're too loud, too near. They almost kill me. Each time that I hear Annie's pain-filled screams I feel guilt and sadness and a desperation that eats at my heart until I'm sure that by time this is done, I'm not even going to have one left.

Then, after what feels like an eternity, it's done. I hear Peeta rush forward, no doubt to comfort Katniss. There's no one to comfort me.

I release a shaky breath and bury my face again, my hands saturated with sticky blood. I chuckle once, darkly. Because now that that's all over with, who knows? Annie's probably dead, and Daisy too. I've already got my mom's blood on my hands. And all of those people I've killed in this Games and my last. I suppose that I should add in the hundreds who had died from the plague last time I openly spoke out against Snow. Might as well add in Wiress, too. If I were paying attention, she'd be alive. Maybe that woman from Six, too.

It's fitting, I think. My blood stained hands.

I laugh again. Then I feel a sharp kick in my ribs and turn to see Johanna give me a look like I've lost it, which I honestly think that I have.

I start to open my mouth, to tell her to just let me go crazy, but she jerks her head towards where Katniss is sitting with Peeta's arms around her.

"Listen," she mouths. I don't know why I listen to her, but I do start listening.

"It was her. Somewhere. The jabberjay just recorded it," Katniss is saying.

"No, that's what they want you to think. The same way I wondered if Glimmer's eyes were in that mutt last year. But those weren't Glimmer's eyes. And that wasn't Prim's voice. Or if it was, they took it from an interview or something and distorted the sound. Made it say whatever she was saying," Peeta says. I find myself hanging onto his words.

"No, they were torturing her. She's probably dead."

"Katniss, Prim isn't dead. How could they kill Prim? We're almost down to the final eight of us. And what happens then?"

"Seven more of us die," Katniss says with a hopelessness that would've been humorous if it wasn't true.

"No, back home. What happens when they reach the final eight tributes in the Games? What happens? At the final eight?"

I think over that myself, but my brain is so jumbled that I can't get it.

"At the final eight?" she repeats. "They interview your family and friends back home."

"That's right. They interview your family and friends. And can they do that if they've killed them all?"

I find myself relaxing. Yes, they won't interview Annie, because that would be horrible for my reputation. They would, however, interview Daisy. And if her voice was fake, then Annie's probably was too.

But still… those screams were so real. What if they change the Games this year? I mean, how many of these victors even have family left?

"No?" Katniss says, still unsure.

"No. that's how we know Prim's alive. She'll be the first one they interview, won't she?"

Katniss doesn't answer, but Peeta continues on. I force his words into my extremely confused brain, make myself listen to them.

"First Prim. Then your mother. Your cousin, Gale. Madge. It was a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we're the only ones who can be hurt by it. We're the ones in the Games. Not them."

I look at him, see that he's serious, but I don't know. I just don't know.

"I really do," Peeta says. But that doesn't mean it's right. It's not below Snow to steal our friends and family.

"Do you believe it Finnick?" Katniss asks me, her eyes begging for me to say yes.

I can't lie and confirm it, because I'm so completely unsure. But I can't bring myself to say no, because she looks so hopeful, and I want it to be real at least as much as she does, so I answer as best I can.

"It could be true. I don't know." My voice scares me. It still sounds dead. I clear my throat. "Could they do that, Beetee? Take someone's regular voice and make it…" I trail off, not having words to describe just how bad those screams were.

"Oh, yes. It's not even that difficult, Finnick. Our children learn a similar technique in school."

I relax further, start to believe it, imagine Annie sitting at home with Daisy beside her, watching the Games right now. Safe, secure.

"Of course Peeta's right," Johanna says flatly. "The whole country adores Katniss's little sister. If they really killed her like this, they'd probably have an uprising on their hands. Don't want that, do they?" Then she stands up straighter, throws back her heads, and yells at the top of her lungs. "Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn't want anything like that!"

That's when I realize that Peeta is right. Because of what Johanna said. The districts are rebelling, the Capitol is busy. They aren't going to waste their time going through district after district picking people up and killing them. Not only would it piss the districts off more, but it'd take time and resources, not to mention be somewhat dangerous.

It wouldn't work. Annie and Daisy are safe.

That thought, however, doesn't stop the screams from echoing through my ears. I still feel dead, torn apart, just plain exhausted. All of the blood and my throbbing nose doesn't help much either.

I mumble something about cleaning off, then head for the water, relaxing the moment that I dive into the cool blue sea.

Yet, I can't help but think that if something like that hurt so bad, what in the hell is going to happen to me if something actually does happen to Annie?


	16. Lumberjacks

A/N- Sorry that this is a little bit late, but I spent the weekend with family, and if I showed any signs of bringing out the laptop, my mother gave me 'the look'. I got this part done on my way home, but never got the chance to really proofread it. I want to get it up, though, so I'm hoping that if there are things that don't make sense or typos or grammar mistakes, my amazing readers will point them out to me so that I can change them.

Not much happens in this chapter, but Finnick had to be doing something while Katniss and Peeta were talking and making the map or whatever, so this chapter is basically just a filler until the next one. After that, I'm thinking another three chapters or so of the Catching Fire half of the story, and then a small break before getting going on the Mockingjay portion.

Other than that I hope you enjoy, and please tell me what you think, and/or point out all the little mistakes that I'm sure to have made. Thank you.

* * *

A cannon blast brings me back to the beach. I quickly look, make sure that Katniss and Peeta are okay, then spare glances at Beetee. I think about looking for Johanna in the trees, but she sprints out before I can even get a chance to.

I relax when I'm sure that all of us are fine, but then when I see the hovercraft dip down five separate times for one body, I'm not quite so relaxed. I can't help but think of Chaff and the times that I sat with him when I first started mentoring. I say a quick prayer that it wasn't him who died like that, even if I know that not even Brutus would deserve a fate that ended with him in five different pieces.

It's completely silent after the hovercraft leaves. Then Peeta goes into the forest and comes back out with another big leaf to draw a map on, and Katniss takes a seat beside him.

I figure that I should do something, but all that I really want to do is sleep, so that even for just a few hours, all of this could go away. The echoes of the screams that I have heard still play through my head and no matter what I do, I can't get the tiny inkling out of my brain that it _was _Annie and Daisy who were screaming.

With a quick shake of my head I force myself into the forest to collect more long stems of grass. Once I have a decent sized pile, I start weaving random things, not really caring what I'm doing.

Within moments my thoughts start branching off and I find myself thinking back to my first Games, when I was weaving that net while Arowana sat back and talked. I can barely remember her face, it's gotten to be just an indistinct blur, but I can still remember her words clearly. I remember her voice, how empty she sounded when she vowed not to use her sword to kill, when she said that no matter what, she just couldn't knowingly take someone's life.

I think she asked me if I cared. Or maybe I remember asking myself that. I can't even remember what my response was. I know what it'd be now. I don't care. I've killed too many people to care. All those years ago, Arowana was worried about taking one life. How many have I taken, most of them without blinking an eye? Then there are the ones that I could have prevented. Wiress, if I had been paying attention. My mother, if I wouldn't have tried to outsmart Snow. Just because I was careless.

What would Arowana say now? That I'm a monster? How doesn't Annie think that? Maybe Rafe was right to get away from me. Maybe I didn't deserve him in the first place.

And what about Mags? God, Mags. She always said that I was a good person, but I always had a feeling that she could see the good in anyone, even if it wasn't there.

I stare at the bowl taking shape in my hands, try to focus on that, try not to let myself think because thinking always seems to depress me.

When I'm not thinking, though, I'm remember the stupid Jabberjays, and if anything that's worse. My worst nightmares, come to life.

I toss the finished bowl to the side and start on a net, just because it's the first thing that I can think of.

I wonder if Annie really is sitting at home, watching this. That seems so unlikely. If anything, District Four is in full scale rebellion by now. She wouldn't be watching, she'd be working. In the hospitals, probably. Or maybe the firing would be causing her demons to be coming back to her, maybe she's hiding, sitting in her parent's house, or my library, with her hands over her ears, trying to block out the voices, talking about the people coming to get her.

I guess I don't know. I want to know. I'm dying to know. It hurts to wonder where she is. For all I know, the Capitol does have her. They could be torturing her. She could be dead. And I wouldn't know the difference.

"Freaking yourself out much?"

I flinch when Johanna plops herself down next to me.

"Go away," I snap.

"Are you sure you want me to? You're looking a bit surly. Probably missing all of your wonderful company."

"Company. That means hot chicks from the Capitol, not a filthy lumberjack."

"As much as that hurts, I wasn't offering you any action. This is televised nationally, in case you aren't aware."

"Johanna," I say tiredly. "There wouldn't be too many people watching who haven't already seen me up close and personal."

She snorts.

"Thanks for the insight. You aren't thinking about girls, though, are you?"

"In all honesty, yeah, I kinda am."

"But not-"

"Johanna, this is televised nationally, in case you aren't aware."

"Does it even matter any more?" she asks.

"To you, maybe not. But I have others to worry about." I don't dare to mention Annie publicly. The last time that everyone knew she was my girlfriend, Snow chucked her into the Games. I don't want to know what he would do to her now.

"I suppose. I've always thought it was better my way. If you've got nothing, you've got nothing to lose."

I force out a dark laugh. "That's not depressing at all."

"I'm not the one sitting off by himself and brooding."

"The Jabberjays-"

"Were fake. Listen to Peeta. He's smarter than he looks."

"That's not the problem though. Do you know how many other things could happen to, to my sister?"

"And is sitting here and crying going to help?"

"God, now you sound like Mags."

"Hey, there's an idea. I know you think that the tragic, dark, and broody act will pick up chicks, but what do you think Mags would think of it?"

"Why do you care?"

She snorts.

"I'm hungry, and you can't get us food if you're wishing for your mommy."

"Right. So you don't care at all?"

"No, I don't," she says icily, already on her feet, getting ready to leave. "Now get off your ass and get me some more of those oyster things. I got water, and I'm not going to interrupt the two lovebirds for something as trivial as food."

I look over her shoulder and sure enough, Katniss and Peeta are huddled together, looking more than a little cozy.

"Don't get jealous, Finnick," Johanna says. "I'm sure that Katniss won't mind a little variety. Peeta's rather boring, if I do say so myself-"

"She's married. And pregnant."

"That's never stopped you before."

"Yeah, but I've never been in a situation where the husband could legally kill me in my sleep with a knife."

A huge, way-too smug grin spreads across Johanna's face. She knows that she's cheered me up, at least enough to start joking.

"Now I would pay to see that. Two hot guys going after each other with weapons? You've even got your shirt off. I'll have to talk to Peeta about similar arrangements. It'll be the most fun I've had in a Games so far."

"As interesting as that sounds, I'm going to have to pass. In case you haven't noticed, he wouldn't stand a chance. On the other hand, you and Katniss would be a pretty even match. Exciting, too. I could even get you two to take your shirts off. Now that would be a show."

Johanna snorts.

"You think you're joking. If I have to stay with Miss Perfect Little Mockingjay for much longer, she's going to find an axe in her head."

I'm tempted to warn her against calling Katniss the Mockingjay, but she's made it pretty clear that the Capitol doesn't have anyone to kill that would affect her at all. She could probably start screaming about how she openly supports the rebellion and nothing would happen, not that she cares about.

"Stay patient a little longer. They're blowing through tributes fast. This thing will all be over in just a couple days."

"And who's going to come out alive?"

It's a question she has to ask, to keep the whole plan a secret. Otherwise, it would sound too much like we're planning a mistake. I realized that, and I also hoped that she would come up with something to cover for me.

"Honestly? I've got no idea. I'll just say that it's going to be you."

"And why's that?"

"I don't want that axe through my head."

I tie the last end on my net and stand up.

"Smart man. Now, if you want to keep that brain of yours, some food would be nice."

I roll my eyes, but do head to the water to search for supper. I hate to admit it, but Johanna has put me in a somewhat better mood. I guess that sometimes annoying, pushy, overly violent lumberjacks aren't so bad.

"Come on, Odair, we don't have all night!"

Remember. I said sometimes.


	17. Love

A/N- I just want to think everyone for all of the reviews, and I'm kind of relieved that there didn't seem to be too many mistakes.

After this, I'm either going to do one giant chapter, two big chapters, or three little ones to finish up the Catching Fire half of the story. It depends on how much time it takes to write it all. Either way, it'll be up by next Friday or Saturday.

Thanks for reading and please review.

* * *

Katniss cleans the fish that I bring back to shore, and just as all of us are about to settle down to our meal, the anthem starts blaring and the faces of the dead from today show.

I count eight. Another eight from yesterday. It hasn't been two days, but two thirds of us are gone. Snow's not stupid. It's the middle of a rebellion, no one is probably concentrating on the Games, and if they are, it's to use them as a reason to keep fighting. Even the Capitol hates them.

He wants these done, and for once, I need them to stretch out longer. I don't know how long Plutarch's plan is going to take, but we're all running out. I wouldn't be surprised if Katniss and Peeta got out of here before the end of the next day. If they're still alive. I try to think of who's left who can kill them.

"They're really burning through us," Johanna comments.

"Who's left? Besides us five and District Two?" I ask.

"Chaff," Peeta says immediately. I relax a little. He's right. Chaff is fine, and even better, he's not going to hurt them. He knows the plan. Right now, the only ones we have to worry about are Brutus and Enobaria.

A moment later, a parachute comes floating down at our feet. I lunge for them, but they're closer to Peeta and he picks them up first and studies them closely.

"There are from your district, right, Beetee?" he asks. Tomorrow, then. I relax. We'll have enough time. Now, all that I need to know is when. I try to think of a way to get the bread from him without seeming creepy.

"Yes, from District Three. How many are there?"

"I'll count them."

Katniss and Peeta both look at me like I've lost it a little, but Peeta gives it to me anyway, and I count each one individually before putting each one in a row, until I've counted twenty four. I double-check, making sure that I have six rows of four. I do. Midnight. It happens tomorrow at midnight.

"Twenty four," I announce, for the benefit of Beetee and Johanna.

"An even two dozen, then?" Beetee double checks.

"Twenty-four on the nose," I confirm. "How should we divide them?"

"Let's each have three, and whoever is still alive at breakfast can take a vote on the rest," says Johanna.

For whatever reason, Katniss laughs at this, and I don't miss the pleased look that Johanna sends her for it. I glance at Peeta and he meets my eyes, then gives the two of them a wary look.

I know what he's saying. They're both going insane.

Once we finish our bread, we wait until the giant wave ahs flooded the ten-to-eleven-o'clock section, then wait for the water to recede before going there to set up camp. That gives us twelve hours of safety, as long as no tributes stumble upon us, and there are only two that would actually make a difference.

There's a kind of ominous clicking sound coming from the eleven-to-twelve-o'clock section, but whatever it is doesn't come out of the jungle, so I don't pay it much attention.

Katniss volunteers to take the first watch with Peeta, and even though I don't like leaving the two of them alone, I am exhausted, and I know that despite my paranoia, they can take care of themselves.

I fall asleep instantly, but it seems like Annie's face pops up in my dreams immediately. I see her screaming and tortured at some moments, and at others, I see her holding me accountable for sending her to her Games, for cheating on her hundreds of times, for being a murderer and causing so many fights between her and her parents.

No matter what it is, though, it always ends with her out of my reach. Dead. Completely insane, mad like some people already think. Or just gone. Sometimes with Rafe. Once with Peeta. And I can't escape. The images, the nightmares just won't stop, even as I try to wake myself up, try to crawl out of them.

I haven't had such horrible nightmares since right after my first Games. I'll admit, I kind of got to thinking that I was immune to them. Clearly, I'm not.

Then the lightning flashes behind my eyelids and I jerk away, panting and sweating, digging my hands into the sand, trying to anchor myself to this place. I take huge, ragged breaths, reassuring myself that Annie isn't dead, she's not insane, and she sure as hell isn't with Peeta.

I take a couple more breaths, then notice Katniss and Peeta staring at me. I'm glad it's dark because I can feel the red creeping up under my skin. I've gotten to the point where most things don't bother me, but I just showed both of them, and all of Panem, a moment of weakness that I didn't want shared.

"I can't sleep anymore," I say quickly. "One of you should rest." Then I notice how the two of them are wrapped around each other, how Peeta's hair is sticking almost straight up, Katniss's swollen lips, and how when another flash of lightning illuminates the area, Peeta's face is beet red. I cough a little and add quickly, "Or both of you. I can watch alone."

"No. It's fine. Watching by yourself is too dangerous," Peeta says. Then he looks at Katniss. "You lie down, Katniss."

She doesn't object, and he walks her back over to where Johanna and Beetee are sleeping. I keep one eye on them, interested.

I can hear Peeta murmur something to her, take a locket off of his neck and put it around hers. I watch him put a hand on her stomach, say something else, then gently walk away.

Then I see her look after him, something in her eyes that I didn't expect to see. Something that looks a heck of a lot like the way I've seen Annie look at me, and I have to wonder if Haymitch isn't confused. Or maybe it isn't him for saying that the whole thing is fake. Maybe it's Katniss, because she's not sure what to think.

I don't blame her. Whatever other guy she has, no matter how much she likes him, probably can't hold much of a candle to Peeta.

A moment later, Peeta is sitting beside me, staring at the forest, twirling a dagger in his hands.

"She loves you a lot. I can tell," I say softly, because I'm starting to think that she actually does, even if she doesn't know it yet. And I know that Peeta probably wouldn't have even considered it because of everything that she's done to him before. It's something that he needs to know.

I don't know if he believes me or not. He probably doesn't, but I can still feel him smiling anyway, an act for the cameras, for me. Because he's married to her, and she's carrying his kid, and no one is supposed to know any differently.

"And I love her," he says softly. It goes quiet for a moment, and then I can feel his eyes on me and he asks, "Do you know what it's like, Finnick? To be in love?"

I close my eyes and take a shaky breath. I can't say that I do, because that would ruin everything. I know that soon, in just over twenty four hours, I'll be out of Snow's reach, but for now I still have to keep up the act, for Annie and Daisy and even my own life.

"I wasn't meant to love, Peeta," I say. I close my eyes, hope that Annie's asleep for this, hope that she won't believe me even if she isn't. "It just doesn't work for me. Too slow, not enough excitement. And I don't think that there's a woman in the world who could hold my attention."

He laughs once, but it's not a happy one.

"Johanna?" Now it's my turn to laugh, even after I've spent numerous nights in the Capitol with her, holding her and talking, and letting the citizens of the Capitol think what they want about the two of us.

"She's fun, but if I had to deal with her more than a couple nights a year, she'd probably be dead by now."

"Does she think that? She treats you differently."

I roll my eyes.

"She hates Katniss, thinks Beetee is a waste of air, thinks that you're nothing but a wimp. She treats me differently because she doesn't hate me."

"Do you know that?"

"She just said that she doesn't love anyone. She's not lying. Sometimes, when enough people around you have died, love loses any meaning it's ever had."

"So all of those other girls, you haven't felt anything for any of them?"

I really don't want to be having this conversation, not with perfect Peeta, not after my nightmares, but I know that he's just trying to understand me, and I can see in his eyes that he really doesn't care.

Another sign that he's too good. He probably has a higher opinion of me than I do of myself, and he doesn't even know half of the actual story.

"No. I haven't. But I don't do it for love, Peeta. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not like you. Not good."

There's another stretch of silence, everything so quiet that I can hear my heartbeat. The insects have stopped, and I almost wish that they haven't. It's too quiet with no noise at all.

Then Peeta speaks again, and I can hear in his voice that I confuse him at least as much as him and Katniss confuse me.

"What about Annie? Katniss says that you were screaming her name when the Jabberjays had attacked. That's Annie Cresta, right?"

I swallow.

"She's different. Do you remember my Games?"

He shrugs.

"I watched them, after you were reaped."

"Well, my district partner, the one whose family I promise to take care of, was Annie's sister. That's the only connection that I have with her. That's why I was so worried."

"I don't believe you," Peeta says. I turn and look at him, hard.

"Well, you should, Peeta. I have to wonder if you're not just so used to digging for the good in people that you make it up when there's none there."

"You were having nightmares about her, Finnick," he says. "Mumbling and rolling everywhere, wanting her with you. There's more to you than you let everyone see, and I'm trying to figure out why that is."

"Some things shouldn't be questioned, Peeta. Some things just don't work. I told you already, I wasn't meant to love."

"So you try to ignore it when you have it?"

"I've known her for ten years, Peeta. If I loved her, do you think that I'd get so much enjoyment out of everyone but her?"

"Do you enjoy it, though?" I think of the nausea, the creeping feeling in my stomach, the way my heart doesn't beat right and the burning sensation of Capitol perfumes in my nostrils.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"But-"

"Peeta. That's enough questions. You're not going to figure me out, so I'd stop trying if I were you."

He looks like he wants to say something else, but he leaves me alone after that, going to the beach and messing around in the water. I stay where I'm at and recline back onto the beach, looking at the twinkling starts winking down at me and wondering what Annie is doing right now, wondering if she believed any of the things that I said.

Because I do know about love, and I don't enjoy doing anything with anyone from the Capitol, and Annie is so much more than Arowana's little sister.

I love her, and I'm going to get out of here to see her again.

Less than a day left. Twenty two hours.

I clutch my trident closer to me.

We're really going to do this.

I hear Annie scream again, see her tortured face. The scream echoes again and again, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to force the screaming to stop.

One more day. One more. Then I'm done. I can feel myself starting to break, but I barely spare that a thought. I'm going to be done with this, back with Annie, before anything can happen.

I'm sure of it.


	18. Planning

A/N- Sorry it's a day late, but I just didn't have the time to finish it yesterday, so I kind of hurried to get it up by now. I know that these chapters are a lot of talking and not much doing, but there was a lot of dead time when they were at the beach, and I wanted to get it all out of the way so that I can conclude the last two chapters with the action part, which is going to start next chapter.

So I'm sorry that these last two chapters have basically been people talking on the beach, but this was kind of a set-up chapter, and the next ones will be more exciting.

Thank you and please review.

* * *

Early the next morning, Johanna wakes up and walks over to Peeta and I, then tells him that he looks tired, that he can go rest.

I immediately see the suspicion in his eyes, but he does go. He must hear the same urgency in Johanna's voice that I do, the necessity to say something.

When she sits down beside me, I give her a questioning look.

In response, she shifts closer to me and leans her head on my shoulder.

"We're going to die soon, aren't we?" she asks offhandedly.

"You are," I offer her. "They all are. But I'm going to live." I say it because everyone knows that if I believed one person would be getting out of this arena alive, my pride, my ego, and my selfish desire to live would make sure that it would be me.

"Well, you'll live longer if we get away from Katniss Everdeen and her arrows."

I make a face, hesitate. When I finally find the words, I let them out slowly, unsurely.

"I can't kill her now. I know it's stupid, but I've gotten too close to her, too close to Peeta. They need to die for me to get out, but I refuse to stab them in the back."

"Katniss and Peeta, or just Katniss?" she asks. The way that she accents the second option lets me know what she wants me to answer.

"Honestly? Just Katniss. Peeta is nice, but Katniss…"

I trail off and give a suggestive smirk that is so much a part of the Capitol Finnick that I'm sure Snow will be smiling to himself at the moment. That is, if he isn't trying to figure out the secret meaning behind this as much as I am.

"Then you take care of Peeta," she says urgently. "I wanted Katniss to myself anyway." What is she doing?

"Johanna-"

"We have to kill them, Finnick. If you can't, if you even think about telling, then I'll have to kill you, too."

Her face is dead serious, but her eyes are frustrated. She can see that my brain isn't processing these things as quickly as I would like.

"Okay. Fine. I'll take Peeta out. But what about Beetee?"

"Honestly? He'll manage to die on his own. That I am sure about."

"If you're sure. And when do you plan on doing this?"

"Tonight," she answers. "We'll separate them. I'll take out Katniss, you get Peeta. Got it?"

I nod. Whatever she's doing, she needs Katniss alone for it.

"Yeah," I answer. I got it."

An hour or so later, all of us are awake, eating our way through another batch of rolls sent from District Three, either to confirm that it is tonight, or maybe to keep the Capitol from suspecting anything.

Everyone is acting strangely. Beetee is deep in thought. Katniss is worried. Johanna seems distracted, and I can't stop fidgeting. My hand shoots to my trident every couple of seconds, my eyes keep flashing to the forest. It's like the knowledge that there's only one day left has put me into a state of disbelief, like I know that my luck won't let us get out, and I'm expecting an enormous hoard of super-powered mutts to burst out of nowhere and start dropping us.

Nothing comes, though. The morning is quiet. Katniss drags Peeta off, saying that she's going to teach him how to swim. That in itself makes me nervous. It's like she wants him out of our earshot. I don't see any other reason why she would bother teaching him _now. _

I try talking with Beetee at first, but he immediately starts blabbering in science-speak, and even though I remind him that I stopped going to school when I was fourteen, all he does is start giving me complicated definitions of impossible to understand terms, so I take off in the middle of an explanation that involves physics and how impressive it is that a moron like myself can throw a trident so well when there are so many complicated little factors that go into it. At least that was the gist of it. He was explaining one of those tiny little factors when I left. I think.

When I'm far away from him, I start weaving another net. I kind of want to talk to Johanna, but she's gone back to sleep.

Just as I'm finishing up, Katniss yells, "Hey, Finnick, come on in! We figured out how to make you pretty again!"

I chuckle to myself, but I can't really lie about being relieved. I've just _felt _ugly since the fog, and I honestly cannot fathom how naturally ugly people stand it all the time.

"You know, Katniss, I don't like the term pretty," I tell her when I take a seat behind her in the sand. "Unbelievably sexy is more accurate."

She snorts. Peeta shakes his head, but I can see a smile playing on his lips.

"If I were you I'd get rid of your ugly green scales before you let your head get much bigger."

Then she shows me how to get the scabs off by rubbing sand over them, and the three of us spend the rest of the morning rubbing each other down with sand, Peeta and I joking back and forth the entire time while Katniss gives us scolding looks.

It's actually kind of fun.

Then Beetee calls us over to him, and my mood lightens even more because I can't help but think that this is the final step to getting us out, that in twenty four hours everything will be fine, and I'll be with Annie again.

Once we get over to Beetee, he starts talking again.

"I think we'll all agree our next job it to kill Brutus and Enobaria," he says. "I doubt they'll attack us openly again, now that they're so outnumbered. We could track them down, I suppose, but it's dangerous, exhausting work."

"Do you think they've figured out about the clock?" Katniss asks.

"If they haven't, they'll figure it out soon enough. Perhaps not as specifically as we have. But they must know that at least some of the zones are wired for attacks and that they're reoccurring in a circular fashion. Also, the fact that our last fight was cut off by Gamemaker intervention will not have gone unnoticed by them. We know it was an attempt to disorient us, but they must be asking themselves why it was done, and this, too, may lead them to the realization that the arena's a clock. So I think our best bet will be setting our own trap."

"Wait, let me get Johanna up," I say, just realizing that she's missing. I guess I was kind of distracted. "She'll be rabid if she thinks she missed something important."

Katniss mutters something that I'm pretty sure isn't pleasant, but I ignore it want wake up Johanna.

She's already mad, just because I waited as long as I did to wake her up. I regret not asking Peeta to do it.

Once we get back, Beetee has us all form a wide circle around him, then draws a rough sketch of the arena in the sand.

"If you were Brutus and Enobaria, knowing what you do now about the jungle, where would you feel safest?" he asks.

I hardly remember being in school. The last time that I was in a classroom was over ten years ago. Yet, for some reason, I feel a hell of a lot like I just restarted my education.

"Where we are now. On the beach. It's the safest place," Peeta says.

"So why aren't they on the beach?"

Really? It's like he thinks that just because we aren't super geniuses it means that we can't get simple concepts. I know that he's not trying to be, but at the moment I'm finding him a little condescending.

It's annoying.

"Because we're here," Johanna snaps impatiently. At least someone else agrees with me.

"Exactly. We're here, claiming the beach. Now where would you go?"

"I'd hide just at the edge of the jungle. So I could escape if an attack came. And so I could spy on us."

"Also to eat," I add absentmindedly. "The jungle's full of strange creatures and plants. But by watching us, I'd know the seafood's safe."

Beetee smirks at us, and I swear that he's looking at us like we're a bunch of his pets. As excited as I am to get out of here, I can't help but wonder if this scrawny little man doesn't see us as a bunch of uneducated savages, because that is exactly what he is treating us like.

I wish I would have gotten to know him better before Wiress died. Haymitch said that she would have known what to do, also, and I'd rather had a crazy nut job than a condescending madman with a somewhat lofty opinion of his own intelligence.

I wonder how even after living through the Games, he still thinks that intelligence is everything. I wonder why he is even rebelling, because it is clear that he doesn't hate the Capitol, not like I do, not like Katniss or Peeta or Johanna do.

Maybe his cold, calculating brain formed some kind of advanced equation involving the Districts and the Capitol, and the Capitol came out in the wrong spot.

I wished that my decisions could be made that easily, that cleanly.

I guess that being ugly and annoying does have its advantages. I wonder if Snow even touched him. I've never heard anything about his history.

"Yes, good. You do see. Now here's what I propose: a twelve o'clock strike. What happens exactly at noon and at midnight?"

"The lightning bolt hit's the tree," Katniss says.

"Yes. So what I'm suggesting is that after the bolt hits at noon, but before it hits at midnight, we run my wire from that tree all the way down into the saltwater, which is, of course, highly conductive. When the bolt strikes, the electricity will travel down the wire and into not only the water, but also the surrounding beach, which will still be damp from the ten o'clock wave. Anyone in contact with those surfaces at that moment will be electrocuted."

There's a long, silent pause, and despite my annoyance at his attitude, I will admit that I am kind of impressed. Impressed with him, impressed with Plutarch.

Because I have seen Beetee's wire at work during his Games, and I know for a fact that if it were to have the power of a lightning strike behind it, it would do a lot more than just fry up Brutus and Enobaria.

If I'm right, it would blow up the entire arena.


	19. So Close

Once Beetee is finished with his explanation, Katniss and Peeta go out of the way to ask questions, trying to dispel Beetee's theory. Even Johanna joins in, clearly not convinced that this thing is actually going to work.

After Beetee finishes answering all of their questions, though, he has everyone following his plan, even though I can see that Johanna is still skeptical. I'm not sure if she's just that convinced of our rotten luck that she doesn't believe he could actually get us out, or if it's her being naturally pessimistic.

I try to give her a smile, but I'm so tired and filthy that is probably doesn't help much.

Beetee insists on inspecting the lightning tree before he puts his plan into action, so we break camp and start our trek into the jungle.

Beetee, who wasn't the strongest in the first place, has barely started his way into the jungle before Peeta picks him up and throws him over his shoulder. But that only serves to slow Peeta down, so eventually I ask to take over. The hot, muggy weather in the arena is similar to what we have in District Four, so I'm a lot more used to it than they are. Although I wouldn't argue that a cold glass of water would be nice at the moment.

As we near the tree, I suggests that Katniss takes the lead because of her ability to 'hear' the force field. I explain that to Johanna and Beetee, watching Beetee for his reaction.

"Hear it?" he asks skeptically.

"Only with the ear the Capitol reconstructed," she says.

"Then by all means, let Katniss go first. Force fields are nothing to play around with," he says in the same tone that I used when I told her to take the lead on the first day.

Katniss continues on in the lead, chucking nuts every once in a while until we get near to the tree. Katniss tells us to just make sure that we stay behind it, and then we divide up duties. I guard Beetee while he studies the tree. Katniss hunts, Peeta gathers nuts, and Johanna taps for water.

Beetee spends a long time looking at the tree, and since I have absolutely nothing else to do, I watch him. It's beyond boring because I have absolutely no idea what he's doing. He just pokes and prods and does a bunch of other things that I can't even pretend to understand.

At one point, he rips a sliver of bark off the tree, then chucks it at the force field. It bounces off and lands at the ground on his feet. He watches it intently until it returns to its original color, then says, "Well, that explains a lot", and even Katniss has trouble not laughing.

Right after that we hear a clicking noise start rising from the wedge adjacent to us. At first it's quiet, like it had been on the beach, but within moments it raises ominously. All of us listen to try to figure out what in the heck it could be.

"It's not mechanical," says Beetee.

"I'd guess insects. Maybe beetles," Katniss says.

"Something with pincers," I add as the noise gets even louder. I wouldn't be surprised if one misplaced step could get you stripped to the bone.

"We should get out of here, anyway," Johanna says. "There's less than an hour before the lightning starts."

We do leave, but we only go to the identical tree in the blood-rain section. Once we're there we make a quick meal out of Katniss's rats and Peeta's nuts.

When we're finished, we circle back to the ten o'clock beach. Beetee starts working with his wire again, basically giving the rest of us the afternoon off.

At first we take turns trying to nap in the shadows of the jungle, but none of us can really sleep anyway. By late afternoon, everyone is pacing back and forth restlessly.

"Why don't we make a meal out of sea food?" Peeta suggests eventually. "I mean, it's not like we'll get any after Beetee is finished with this."

We all agree the he's right, so the four of us head towards the sea. I give basic lessons on how to spear fish and gather shellfish and oysters. Katniss and Johanna both start diving to grab oysters, while Peeta stays in the shallows to watch. I spend all of my time spearing fish with my trident, feeling a kind of pure power that I haven't felt since I was fourteen, the last time that I bothered with any kind of fishing.

Once we've gathered an enormous pile of seafood, Katniss, Peeta, and I start cleaning it while Johanna watches. I skin and gut the fish, since I'm a lot better at it than the other two, and Katniss and Peeta work on the shellfish and oysters.

It's quiet enough to hear Beetee muttering to himself in the background, but it's not a bad quiet. For whatever reason, no screams echo in my ears, no bad thoughts fill my head. Maybe it's the knowledge that everything is going to be over with soon, but I actually feel peaceful for the first time in a long time.

After a while, Peeta's laugh breaks up the silence.

"Hey, look at this," he says. He holds up a perfect pearl, about the size of a pea. "You know, if you put enough pressure on coal, it turns to pearls," he says to me earnestly.

"No, it doesn't," I say dismissively, wondering if maybe I need to get him out of the sun. But then Katniss starts cracking up, and I figure that I'm probably missing something. I look at Johanna and she just rolls her eyes like she can't believe how childish they are.

Then Peeta rinses off the pearl and hands it to Katniss.

"For you," he says sweetly. She tilts her head up and looks directly into his eyes. I scoot away as quietly as I can.

"Thanks," Katniss says softly, seeming to unconsciously move closer to Peeta. Johanna makes a gagging face. I try to focus on her and ignore whatever kind of moment that they're having.

"The locket didn't work, did it?" Peeta says. I turn and send a questioning look their way, but they have eyes only for each other. I doubt that they'd tell me anyway. This is something private, something that I probably shouldn't even be watching, but it seems like they don't even notice me, and I'd probably draw more attention to myself if I did.

"It worked," Katniss says after a charged silence.

"But not the way I wanted to," he says, sounding dejected. Then he goes back to cleaning his oysters, not looking up at all. The peaceful silence is long gone, replaced by tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

I'm just about to make up some excuse to leave when a parachute floats down right in front of us. I leap up, thankful for a reason to get away from whatever problems that they're having. I count the bread once again, then pick up the small pot of spicy red sauce.

We divide up the rolls, then start in on the meal. It really isn't that bad, despite the food that I'm used to eating, not the mention that fact that fish gets kind of tiring when you've lived in District Four your entire life.

I eat until I'm completely full, realizing that it could be the last real meal I'll get in a long time. The others completely gorge themselves, eating until most of the food is gone.

We throw the leftovers into the water so the Careers can't get it, and then we're left with nothing to do other than wait. Katniss and Peeta sit at the edge of the water silently.

Johanna and I sit beside each other at the edge of the forest. We bicker back and forth and made shallow conversation, but it's clear that both of our minds are elsewhere.

Then, when it looks like it's about eight o'clock, her eyes turn serious.

"You remember the plan, right?" she asks quietly.

"You get Katniss, I take Peeta," I say.

"Good. If all goes well, we'll meet up again at the lightning tree. Beetee should be there, too," she says.

"Okay," I answer. Johanna glares at me, and I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong.

"So, how are you going to kill Peeta?" she asks lowly.

"Um. Stab him with my trident?" I say questioningly. She clenches her teeth.

"Why don't you cut his arms off and let him bleed to death? He pisses me off, and I want him to have a painful death?"

"Wha-"

"His arms, Finnick," she hisses, then grabs my right arm and pinches me, right beneath where the tracker strains against my skin, shallow so that I could cut it out with a knife in a matter of seconds.

That's when I finally realize what she's been blabbing on about. She needs Katniss alone so that she can cut the tracker off of her, and I need to do the same thing to Peeta.

"You know, that's a good idea," I say. "His legs too."

She leans forward and kisses my cheek, her lips lingering by my ear just long enough to whisper, "It's about time, dumbass."

Then she reclines back in the sand, and the two of us sit there silently until Beetee declares that it's time to go.

A/N-

So, this is it. Next chapter they blow up the arena, the chapter after that is the scene in the hovercraft, and then the first half of the story is done and I can start the Mockingjay portion, which I've kind of been dying to do. I can't believe that I'm so close to being finished with this whole thing, and all of the amazing reviews that I've gotten are even more unbelievable. I'd just like to thank all of you for that.

~bballgirl32~


	20. Explosions

The hike up to the tree is quiet. Everyone is tense and nervous. Beetee, Johanna, and I because we know the real importance of this, know that the entire rebellion hinges on this one thing. Katniss and Peeta no doubt because if these Games were real, it would be closing in on the time where we would be considering turning on them.

Once we get to the tree, Beetee asks me to assist him and the rest of them to stay guard. I watch while he unrolls yards and yards of the thin, hair-like wire. When he's done with that, he has me tie the wire securely around a broken branch and lay that on the ground.

Then he tells me to stand on the opposite side of the tree as him, and we pass the wire back and forth as it wraps around the tree. I can see him making some sort of specific pattern on his side, but mine is basically a mess of wire. He doesn't say anything, though, so I assume that I'm doing it right.

I can hear the wave roar behind us just as we finish wrapping the wire around the trunk. Then Beetee steps back and gives Katniss a wary look.

"Now, logically you should all realize that for this plan to work, we must get the coil through the forest, and down to the beach. Once there, I want it laid across the twelve o'clock sector, and then dropped into the water with whatever wire is left. Once it is ascertained that the spool has completely sunk, those who delivered it will have to run to the jungle for safety immediately.

"Now, I have considered who would be the best-suited for the trip, and because it must be done quickly and quietly, I would strongly recommend Katniss and Johanna."

"I want to go with them as a guard," Peeta says immediately. I open my mouth to protest, but Beetee beats me to it.

"You're too slow. Besides, I'll need you on this end. Katniss will guard. There's no time to debate this. I'm sorry. If the girls are to get out of there alive, they need to move now."

Then he hands the coil to Johanna. Peeta makes a face, but doesn't protest any further.

"It's okay," Katniss tells Peeta. "We'll just drop the coil and come straight back up."

"Not in the lightning zone," Beetee reminds them. "Head for the tree in the one-to-two-o'clock sector. If you find you're running out of time, move over one more. Don't even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage."

I can't help but think that if everything goes as plan, that information will be completely irrelevant. There will be no reunion, not until we get onto that Hovercraft headed for District 13.

"Don't worry," Katniss says to Peeta. "I'll see you at midnight." Then she kisses him quickly and turns to face Johanna. "Ready?"

"Why not. You guard, I'll unwind. We can trade off later."

Then they're gone. I know that I need to get Peeta away from them, but I can't think how. Beetee starts messing with the branch that I had left on the ground, but he hasn't told me to do anything, so I stand there, unsure, hesitant.

Finally I realize that I _have _to get Peeta out of there immediately, and I open my mouth to ask him if he wants to go get water, but Beetee curses over me.

"What happened?" Peeta asks him worriedly. He shakes his head. I stride over to him and grab his collar. "Beetee," I snap. "What happened?

"Someone cut the wire," he finally says. "It may not matter in the big picture, I can still….but the Careers…and it may not work…"

"Shit, Brutus and Enobaria," I mutter.

"Wait, what?" Peeta asks.

"They cut the wire," Beetee says. "I'm guessing it's District Two, but someone cut the wire. It's gone completely slack. It'll never reach the water, and Katniss and Johanna are probably in big trouble, especially if Johanna already…." He shakes his head.

"We've got to go after them," Peeta says at once. I look back and forth between him and Beetee.

"No, you stay Peeta, you're too slow. I have to go find them." I hesitate. Peeta has to get his tracker cut out. But will that even matter anymore? What if Katniss is already dead? And the plan may not even work anyway. Was feeding the wire into the water a cover-up for Beetee's actual plan, a way to get Katniss and Johanna alone, or was there a chance that it was actually something significant.

I shake my head. If there's a chance of this working, Beetee will know to cut out Peeta's tracker. I just have to go find Katniss, make sure that she's alive. I take off at a dead sprint, flying over branches, not paying any attention to the amount of noise that I'm making. Like always, my trident is in my hand, ready to be used if necessary. I try to follow the wire, but it's so twisted and blown around that I end up just following my instincts, running faster than I have in a very long time, the heat of the jungle pressing down on me as I push myself faster.

Everything depends on this plan, and now I have no idea how it's going to turn out. What felt so sure just hours ago is falling apart fast, and I don't know what to do.

That's when I see the pool of blood. I stop, my heart leaping in my throat even as I convince myself that it might not mean anything. Maybe Johanna just cut out her tracker. But then where is Johanna? Did the Careers find them, kill them both?

No cannons, though. No bodies. No hovercrafts. I study the ground, see the crushes leaves and branches, then take off in that direction. Someone went that way. I just have no idea who.

Eventually I hear the sound of fighting, metal on metal. An axe against a sword. A deep laugh, a tired snort. Someone taunting.

I push myself even faster, and in seconds I burst into a clearing. Johanna and Enobaria are fighting, Johanna rolling across the ground to avoid Enobaria's sword. Chaff is sword fighting against Brutus, at a clear disadvantage because of his age, his bad arm.

I start for that group, but then Johanna screams, and I see her disarmed, Enobaria raising her sword for the final hit. I dash out of the trees and tackle Enobaria to the ground, kick her sword out of her hands. Johanna scrambles away and grabs her axe.

I raise my trident to finish off Enobaria, but then I hear the screaming, "Katniss! Katniss!"

What the hell is he doing? What happened to Beetee? Shit. I hesitate for just a moment, and Enobaria rolls out from underneath of me at the exact moment that a pain-filled scream echoes through the clearing.

My eyes flash to the battle going on beside me just as Brutus is pulling his sword out of Chaff's gut. I consider helping, but then Brutus runs his blade through Chaff's throat and the cannon fires. A dull ache runs through my chest. He's gone. Too late.

I pick up my trident, start to get Enobaria, but Brutus is coming for me, too.

"Peeta! I'm here! Peeta!"

Brutus pulls up short, mutters, "Shit, I thought she was dead." Johanna uses the opportunity to charge at him with her axe raised. He's so slow that it's a fair fight, so I turn to finish off Enobaria, but she's gone, no doubt running to take down the easier opponent.

I take off after her, willing myself to speed up, but the air is getting heavy, and I've already ran a long ways, and my trident keeps slipping out of my sweaty fingers. It feels like I'm not making any progress, even as I can see Enobaria in the distance.

We're heading to the lightning tree, I can tell, and whatever was supposed to happen hasn't yet.

Then she starts slowing down, and I force myself to gain on her. Twenty feet. Fifteen. Ten. Five.

She reaches the lightning just as I'm close enough to tackle her, but I pull up short. There's no one by the tree, not that I can see, and the lightning bolt is about to strike. I can hear the insects in the adjacent wedge starting to die down. Minutes. Seconds, maybe.

Another cannon fires. I pray that it's Brutus, not Johanna, not Peeta or Katniss or Beetee. But _where _are they?

Then someone raises shakily from the hill in front of me. Katniss, her skin cloaked with the dark green medicine. Enobaria starts for her, but I hold her back, my eyes trained on Katniss.

She's holding her bow , but there's something hanging from it… the wire.

I hold tight to Enobaria as Katniss fires her arrow, watch it disappear into the force field, pulling the gold wire behind it.

I can feel electricity start running through my body, and then the lightning strikes the tree, just yards away from me.

The blinding light causes me to let go of Enobaria, and then it's like the world explodes. The light turns even more dazzling, and I'm thrown backwards. I crash into the ground, unable to move let along brace myself. The air whooshes out of my chest all at once, and I can't seem to get any back. Everything it bright, and things are falling on me, and I can't breathe or see or hear anything other than the sound of the world coming down on me.

That's when I know that I'm going to die, but I can't make myself care. As long as Katniss is alive, the revolution will live, Annie will live.

Annie. I can feel myself slipping out of consciousness, but I hang onto that name, bring an image of her face to the front of my mind. I manage to capture the memory of her bright green eyes just as everything goes black.

**A/N- **

**A little bit short, but I wanted to get this up since I'm kind of late on it. My town is shutting off the power in like twenty minutes, so I'm in a hurry to get this out before the internet goes off. Because of that I really didn't proofread much (so please point out grammar mistakes for me if you see any), and my author's note is basically just going to say that I'm trying to get the next chapter of this up by Wednesday night or Thursday morning. And to the reviewers who pointed out my grammar mistakes throughout the stories, I've reread them, and they are distracting in some places. When I'm done with this one, I'm planning on going back and editing through all of them. Now I really got to go. Please review.**


	21. Breaking Point

Everything hurts. My thoughts are disjointed, and my head feels like it's being taken to with a jackhammer. A raspy cough escapes my throat, and immediately footsteps come hurrying over to me.

"Finnick," a familiar voice says. I force my eyes open, see Haymitch looking down at me.

But how…?

I close my eyes again, try to remember what has just happened. Then the memories start coming back in flashes. The Games. Protecting Katniss and Peeta. Mags dying. Beetee's plan. Johanna and Katniss leaving. And then everything falling apart. Katniss, her skin dark green from the medicine, standing and shooting that arrow into the force field. And then the explosion.

I tear my eyes open again. I didn't die. They rescued me.

"Finnick," repeats Haymitch. "Are you okay?"

Okay? Physically I am, as well as can be expected, anyway. But mentally? I think it's been ten years since I've been okay. He's not asking about that, though. He wants to know if I'm going to end up dead.

"Good enough," I answer. My voice is raspy. I try to clear my throat, but it doesn't accomplish anything.

"Good," says Haymitch. "Plutarch wants to catch you up before Katniss wakes up. We're predicting… problems with her, and she'll listen to you before she listens to us."

Katniss. So the Mockingjay is here. I let out a sigh of relief. But problems with her? What kind of problems?

A memory flies forward, Peeta screaming for Katniss from who knows where, his tracker still in his arm, and far, far away from us. Shit.

I close my eyes and try to force the thoughts away. We have Katniss. That's who we really need. If she cooperates, Peeta is unnecessary.

Unnecessary, maybe, but his absence hurts me more than I would like. Those stupid conversations he started with me during the Games, the way he treated Katniss, the way he treated everyone, all come back to me, and I can't help but think that if any one us deserved to be spared, it would be Peeta Mellark.

"I messed up," I say. It comes out almost like a moan.

Haymitch gives me a sad look.

"You did all you could, Finnick," he says. "Now come on. You need to know this stuff."

I take a deep breath and force myself into a sitting position, wincing as I coerce my sore muscles into action. At least I don't feel any real damage. Maybe my previous declaration that I was going to die was a little panicked.

"What exactly do I need to know?" I ask Haymitch as I shakily get to my feet. He looks away, and my heart gives a painful squeeze.

"Haymitch," I pry, wanting to get him to talk.

"Plutarch wants to tell you everything all at once," he mumbles.

"But-" I start to argue. He holds up a hand to interrupt me.

"A lot has happened since you entered the arena. It'll take time to tell you everything. Be patient."

I bite my tongue, but listen to his advice and follow him silently through the sterile halls of what I recognize as a hovercraft.

Moments later, I'm sat down in front of the Gamemaker himself. He holds out his hand for me to shake and says, "That was a wonderful performance, Finnick."

I watch his hand until it falls awkwardly by his side, and then look straight at him while I say, "Just tell me what's going on."

So he does. First, he tells me about the end of the Games. Tells me about how we got Katniss, Beetee, and me, but the Capitol scooped up Enobaria, Peeta, and Johanna.

I swallow hard when I hear Johanna's name. That's worse than Peeta. She was at the center of the rebellion. She knows _everything. _They're going to torture her, maybe kill her. I shake my head and keep listening.

Right now, we're headed for District Thirteen. When we get there, we'll eventually consider plans to rescue Johanna and Peeta. Enobaria stays.

Then Plutarch falls silent for a moment. I look up at him and say, "So, that tells me about the Games. What about the districts?"

I don't have to say, "What about Annie?". He knows that's what I'm asking. He just chooses not to answer directly.

"The Districts are now in full-scale rebellion, although only a fraction of them are secured. There is heavy fighting going on all across Panem, and the food problems are getting worse."

I look at him intently, my gut churning with fear. He would've just answered if he knew it was something I wanted to hear. "And District Four? What about Annie?"

Plutarch takes a deep breath.

"We aren't sure," he says finally. "Communications aren't holding up very well."

"But you don't have her," I say, my voice laced with despair.

"That doesn't mean the Capitol does, either," Plutarch says gently. I numbly shake my head. He's being stupid. Of course the Capitol has her. With my luck, she's probably dead by now. I close my eyes against the thought. No, they wouldn't do that. Instant execution isn't the Capitol's style. They'd have some fun with her first. Rape, torture, who knows what else.

I bury my face in my hands. No, no, no. I can't think like that. She may still be in District Four, hiding somewhere, scared as hell.

Plutarch, seemingly oblivious to my plight, continues speaking as if nothing has happened. He goes on to talking about what districts are doing well, which ones aren't, other things that don't matter at all in the face of what could be happening to Annie.

"Communications are down in Seven, Ten, and Twelve. But Eleven has control of transportation now, so there's at least a hope of them getting some food out."

I look up quickly.

"What about District Four? You didn't say anything about not being able to get in and out of Four. If you take me there, I'll get Annie."

"No, I'm sorry. There's no way I can get you to Four. But I've given special orders for her retrieval if possible. It's the best I can do, Finnick."

I bow my head. There's no way that anything that fool does is going to get Annie out. I doubt that they even know she's been staying with her parents. If they don't have her yet, the Capitol is going to take her. Because of me. My fault.

"Maybe I should just kill myself," I mutter. "Then at least she'll be safe."

Haymitch lets out a low growl and I jerk my head up at him in surprise.

"Don't be stupid. That's the worst thing you could do. Get her killed for sure. As long as _you're _alive, they'll keep _her _alive for bait."

Bait? I cringe at how terrible that sounds just as the door crashes open.

Normally, my instincts would kick in and I'd be on my feet, ready to take down whatever moron would enter a room like that, but at the moment I really don't care. I look up lazily and see Katniss stagger forward.

"Done knocking yourself out, sweetheart?" Haymitch asks. He's clearly annoyed, but when she stumbles he still steps up and steadies her. "So it's you and a syringe against the Capitol? See, this is why no one lets you make the plans."

I look more closely and see her holding a thin white needle. It would be humorous, if I anything could be humorous without Annie.

"Drop it," he orders. She does. Then he sets her down right next to me. Plutarch gives her food. I watch her closely, try to focus on her problems instead of mine. Does she know that there's no Peeta? I doubt it. She clearly doesn't even know where she's at. She knows nothing.

I wish I were that lucky.

"Katniss, I'm going to explain what happened. I don't want you to ask any questions until I'm through. Do you understand?" Haymitch asks, taking a seat in front of Katniss.

She nods. He tells her everything. Tells her about the plan to break us out of the Quell, about Plutarch's true identity, about all of the steps that were taken to assure that we could get out. Then he tells her where we are now, where we're headed. He finishes by saying that most of the districts are rebelling.

She stares ahead for a moment until she whispers, "You didn't tell me."

Plutarch speaks up for the first time.

"Neither you nor Peeta were told. We couldn't risk it. I was even worried you might mention my indiscretion with the watch during the Games. Of course, when I showed you this, I was merely tipping you off about the arena. As a mentor. I thought it might be a first step toward gaining your trust. I never dreamed you'd be a tribute again."

"I still don't understand why Peeta and I weren't let in on the plan," she says. I close my eyes. She's not stupid, I should know that. Although now I'm starting to wonder.

"Because once the force field blew, you'd be the first ones they'd try to capture, and the less you knew, the better."

"The first ones? Why?"

She sounds dazed. I wonder if she has a concussion. I consider mentioning that maybe they shouldn't be telling her this right now.

"For the same reason the rest of us agreed to die to keep you alive," I say, hoping to make things more simple for her. She furrows her brow.

"No, Johanna tried to kill me."

"Johanna knocked you out to cut the tracker from your arm and lead Brutus and Enobaria away from you."

"What? I don't know what you're-"

"We have to save you because you're the Mockingjay, Katniss. While you live, the revolution lives."

I can finally see the gears turning in her head, can see her put the pieces together.

Then she looks up at Haymitch with so much sadness and fear in her dark gray eyes that I look away because Katniss Everdeen doesn't show emotion, especially not emotion that reminds me so much of Annie.

"Peeta," she whispers.

"The others kept Peeta alive because if he died, we knew there'd be no keeping you in an alliance. And we couldn't risk leaving you unprotected."

That's not what she was asking, and everyone knows it.

"Where is Peeta?" she hisses.

"He was picked up by the Capitol along with Johanna and Enobaria." His eyes go to his lap.

That's when Katniss jumps. For a moment I'm too much in shock to do anything, but then I see the blood trickling down Haymitch's face, and I hurry onto my feet, pick up Katniss and try to drag her away. Haymitch is looking at her like a rabid dog, and she's acting like a rabid dog, and I'm still weak from getting shocked and I can hardly hold her back.

Then someone else comes to help me and Katniss gets tied down. They sedate her, but I can still see the pain on her face, can still see what terrible condition she's in. I sit down on the bed next to hers, wanting to do something, anything.

"Katniss. Katniss. I'm sorry," I tell her. "I wanted to go back for him and Johanna, but I couldn't move."

She doesn't answer. I keep pressing.

"It's better for him than Johanna. They'll figure out he doesn't know anything pretty fast. And they won't kill him if they think they can use him against you."

"Like bait?" she says to the ceiling. "Like how they'll use Annie for bait, Finnick?"

Her words feel like a punch to the gut, and I let out a low cry, like I'm a wounded animal. Tears are welling up in my eyes, but it's not like she can see them, not like she cares. I want to be mad at her, but why should I be? She has it just as bad, maybe worse.

"I wish she were dead," I finally say. "I wish they were all dead and we were, too. It would be best."

And it's true. Death would be easier. Peeta and Annie and all of them would go to heaven and finally get whatever peace they deserve. And for those of us who deserve eternal damnation, well, when earth is hell, hell is sure to be a kind of heaven.

Katniss doesn't disagree with me. Why should she? She's a hunter. She knows that sometimes it's better to just put an animal out of its misery.

Except I don't deserve that. Death would be too easy for me right now. I need to drag it out, to keep surviving. For me and for Annie and for Panem. Because I haven't offered everything that I have to give, not yet, and I'm not going to _let _myself die until Snow is dead and the Hunger Games are finished.

"Finnick. I need to talk to you," Plutarch says from the doorway a few moments later.

I jump up from the bed and hurry over to him.

"What? Is it about Annie?"

He swallows.

"I just received information from District Four. We know where she's at."

I stare at him. His tone of voice scares me.

"Where?" I can barely get the word out.

"She is currently being transported to the Capitol."

I crumple to the floor, can hardly stifle a scream. The will to live that was so strong only moments ago is gone so fast that it's almost humorous. Annie is basically as good as dead.

The cracks that have been slicing through my mind since I was fourteen get wider and wider. There's not anything I can do about it, so I let them. I sit on the floor and laugh my head off until I completely break, and by then Plutarch already has the sedative going through my veins.

**A/N- **

**Sorry, sorry, sorry. That was really late, but I really didn't have time to finish it last weak, and then I had the state track meet and vacation right afterwards, so this is the first time I've been able to touch a computer for basically a week. So, my apologies, but it's a little bit longer so I hope that makes up for it. I'm still not sure how I'm going to start the _Mockingjay _half of this, so it may take over a week for my next update, but I'll try to have it up sooner than I was planning since this one took so long. **

**I'd also like to thank all my awesome reviewers for the great reviews. I really appreciate them, and I hope that you keep it up. Special thanks to RueofDistrict11 for pointing out the typos, and silver cat 777 for noticing the misspelled title. **

**~bballgirl32~**


	22. Concentration Problems

For a long stretch of time, I don't feel like I'm truly alive. I simply exist in a world of smoky gray. There's something not right, a sickening feeling that I can't quite place because it's so muted, indistinct.

Some part of me tells myself that I must be dead, but my brain isn't working well enough for me to care. Actually, my brain isn't working at all. Vague ideas are flying around, lights and images, thoughts that I know I should try to identify, but I am not able to do so.

I do not know how long I am like that when I start hearing the voices. Just murmurs and whispers, but something tells me that they aren't inside my head. Perhaps I'm not dead. A dreadful squeezing in my heart makes me wonder if I wouldn't be better off if I was.

Then I think someone is saying my name, but the voice is so fuzzy that I have no idea. I would open my eyes, but it doesn't feel like I have eyes to open. My entire body feels disjointed. As an indeterminate amount of time passes, that sick feeling starts getting stronger. The voices get louder. Those thoughts that I have a feeling I should look at seem to get closer, stopping only when they're only inches beyond my reach.

"Finnick."

It is my name, even if whoever is saying it is hundreds of thousands of feet away. The thoughts get closer, and I start to feel worse and worse. Suddenly, I don't want to know what those thoughts are anymore. I want to go back to the complete nothing.

"Finnick!"

No, no. Stop speaking to me. I don't want to wake up. I don't want to think.

"What's going on?" another voice asks.

"Get out of here. He's in no condition to talk to you!" a stern voice snaps. _Katniss. _

Katniss? The name confuses me, but it reeks of sorrow and bad memories. I try to get it out of my mind, but then the picture appears. Katniss. The black haired girl. I know her from somewhere.

"I need to speak to him immediately." the first voice says. _Plutarch Heavensbee. _I brace myself for another image, for everything to start falling together, but all that I get is a nauseous feeling in my stomach that makes me wonder if I'm going to throw up.

"No, you don't," another, smaller voice says. It sounds like a little girl. "He's not okay, and he isn't going to be okay for a very long time. I'd bet that he's worse than Katniss is right now!"

_Not okay. Not going to be okay for a very long time. _

Sea green eyes pop into my vision, and I can feel despair start to wash over me in suffocating waves. Something tells me that noises are coming out of my mouth, that tears are flowing down my cheeks, but I barely notice as hundreds of thoughts come flooding back into my head.

Katniss. The Games. Peeta, Johanna, taken from the arena. And Annie. Annie. Oh, God, Annie.

"Calm down, Finnick. Finnick, calm down."

What are they doing to her right now? Is she dead yet? She should be dead. Her angelic face comes flying into my head, and I shake the thought away. No, not dead. Never dead. But then what do I want? Her getting tortured?

High pitched screams echo through my ears, Annie pleading for me to protect her, to make them stop, to keep her safe. Annie yelling at me about how 'they' were always trying to get her, and me whispering promises that I wouldn't let them.

Now she's gone. Gone. Because I didn't keep my promises. I abandoned her, and they took her, and now she's worse than dead but I'm far too selfish to truly wish for her to die.

"Finnick!"

Maybe she's with Johanna. Maybe they're getting their limbs cut off, or their faces carved up with each other. Just because Snow knows that it'll make me extra happy. Or maybe, maybe she was turned into an Avox. Perhaps she's been sent off to serve a rich Capitol family, maybe even Snow himself. And maybe she gets beaten for no reason. Her face is probably bruised and bloody right now, her entire body black and blue.

Or maybe she's already dead, off to a better place where I can't hurt her anymore.

"FINNICK!"

I jump, the voice truly getting through to me for the first time. My eyes jump open, and I see three people looking down at me. Plutarch. A blonde girl. And a blonde woman who looks exactly like her.

Not Annie. Of course not Annie. Because we couldn't save Annie. And now she's a beaten and bruised Avox or maybe just a poor dead girl that no one cares about except for me and that's probably my fault because who would care for anyone who supposedly loves a soulless murderer?

I hear someone start speaking, but the words don't quite reach me.

"Huh?" I mutter. My voice is dry and gravelly.

"I asked if you can understand me?" the girl asks. She's pretty. Like Annie. I wonder if Annie is still pretty. I wonder if she still has her beautiful eyes. Maybe they gouged them out. Of course, she'd still be pretty anyway, no matter how broken she was.

"Finnick," the voice prods gently.

"Maybe you should just let him be for now."

That's where I heard Katniss's voice. The woman sounds almost just like her. More frail, perhaps, but they have the same general voice, the same accent. Annie's voice is so much more pretty than either of theirs. Unless she's an Avox by now. Then she doesn't have a voice.

"He isn't going to get better if he just sits here."

The three of them start talking, then, going into details that I don't care about. I want to open my mouth and say that no one should care about someone like me when someone like Annie is hurt worse. Except my mouth won't work.

The girl steps forward after a while and slides her warm hand around mine, her other one wiping the continuous stream of tears from my cheeks. No, no, no. She cannot be nice to me. I don't deserve it. No one is being nice to Annie.

Annie. My heart starts pounding more quickly. I _need _to get to Annie. I try to sit up, but metal bars are keeping me down. The girl withdraws her hands.

"Let me out!" I scream.

"Sedate him," orders Plutarch.

"Annie! I need to get to Annie!"

But they don't listen, and soon enough, I'm dragged into a restless sleep.

The feeling of a small hand in mine wakes me up. My first thought is of Annie, but when I try to jerk upright and tear my eyes open, it's the blonde girl. Not Annie. Of course it's not Annie. Annie is in the Capitol. Getting tortured. Or maybe she's dead. Rotting away underground. Her beautiful green eyes decomposing into dirt, never to see again.

"Finnick," she says softly.

I have the feeling that she's been saying my name for a while, but I don't listen even when I do hear it. She doesn't know. She doesn't understand. Of course she doesn't. Because she's too young, so young and sweet and innocent.

Except she's not that young. Not much younger than fourteen, when I lost all my sweetness and innocence. Annie was sixteen for her Games. She was the smartest one out of all of us victors, the one who truly understood that she was never safe, that 'they' were coming back for her. Now they did, and she's in the Capitol and-"

"There is a special television program on. They are interviewing Peeta in about five minutes. Plutarch thinks that you would like to watch it."

"Peeta?" Why do I care about Peeta? Katniss should care about Peeta. Not me. Definitely not me.

"Yes. And you know that Peeta and Annie are being held prisoner for the same reason. Now that you know Peeta is alive, you know Annie is, too.

"But Snow hates me!" I bellow. "He'll kill Annie just because of me!"

"He hates Katniss, too," the girl says. "And Peeta isn't dead."

A part of me wants to believe her, but my luck isn't that good, and I know that Annie can't be okay because nothing is okay. Nothing about watching Peeta do a stupid interview interests me. Why can't they interview Annie? Is it because she's almost dead, or because her tongue has been cut out?

Or she is already dead. They can't interview someone when they're already in the ground, can they? Great. I knew she was dead. I just knew it. That's why they're interviewing Peeta and not Annie. If I were them, I would interview Annie. No one wants to see Peeta, anyway. Annie is so much better. Prettier. I love Annie, not Peeta. No one loves Peeta. I wish no one loved Annie. Then she'd be alive, and not hurt, and with some guy who actually deserved her. Maybe I don't love Annie. If I loved Annie, I would have let her go a long time ago.

"Let's watch Peeta. You need to do something to get your brain off of Annie."

"No, I don't," I argue stubbornly. It hurts to think about Annie, and I'm glad that it hurts. I deserve it to hurt. Besides, maybe if I think about Annie she'll stay alive. If she's not already dead anyway.

"You're going to break if you keep acting like this, and that's just what Snow wants. I think a distraction would help you."

"I don't care what you think unless you can help Annie," I mutter. But that's impossible because this little girl can't help Annie. No one can help Annie. Or no one will help Annie. I bet that they could help Annie if they wanted to help Annie, but they just don't want to because she's not important. I bet that if they captured Katniss, everyone would want to help Katniss.

**But Annie's just a stupid crazy girl to them, and now I'm probably just a stupid crazy guy to Plutarch, and no one is going to do me any favors and no one is going to save her because neither of us matter.**

"They'll help Annie as soon as they can," the girl says. "But maybe if you listen to me, you can figure out what to do so that you can get better."

There's no use in 'getting better' until they help Annie. I don't want to be better without Annie.

"I know that you aren't having trouble concentrating. You're just concentrating too hard on a specific thing."

"I could have told you that."

It's common sense. Annie had common sense. That's why she tried so hard to live in her own little world. Because she knew that this one sucked.

"Well, maybe if you quit thinking about Annie so much, your brain will start working again."

My brain isn't working. Annie's brain didn't work. That's what they said anyway. I never listened to them.

"Okay. I'm going to turn the television on, anyway. Just incase you want to listen to Peeta."

"No one cares about Peeta."

"Katniss does. Someone she loves is in the Capitol's hands, too."

"But she's not going crazy because she's Katniss and she does everything right and she isn't weak and she gets to see Peeta do an interview and know that he's okay and-"

"And I'm going to take your restraints off so you can sit up and see, okay? But you've still got an IV in, so if you try to escape, I can sedate you."

"You can let me go?" I ask, perking up.

"I can, but I won't. Besides, even if you got out of the hospital, you're about a dozen floors underground. You won't get out."

"No, just get me out of here, and I'll escape."

"No."

"I'll give you a kiss," I try desperately.

"You're over ten years older than me."

"So? I know girls younger than that who find me positively irresistible. Come on. A kiss for my freedom. Please."

"If you are going to be like that, I'm afraid I can't let you watch Peeta, but maybe you'll enjoy listening to him." She picks up a remote and flips a television on. A moment later I hear Caesar Flickerman's familiar voice. I remember when he interviewed Annie. He liked Annie. Everyone liked Annie. Until she went crazy. Of course, she's so beautiful that it's good that she went crazy, otherwise she probably would have turned into a prostitute, and she's always been too innocent for that…

"Once you're in the arena, the rest of the world becomes very distant," I hear Peeta say. Except it doesn't. Not when you're thinking about Annie every night. Not when Jabberjays are echoing her screams.

That memory brings the sound back. Annie screaming. Like she's probably screaming right now.

"… the tributes who want your blood become your final reality, the only one that every mattered. As bad as it makes you feel, you're going to have to do some killing, because in the arena, you only get one wish. And it's very costly."

"It costs your life."

"Oh, no. It costs a lot more than your life. To murder innocent people? It costs everything you are."

"Is he right, Finnick?" the girl asks softly.

"No," I answer. "You kill someone, but it's necessary. Peeta says innocent people, but they aren't innocent. You save yourself. They would have killed you if you didn't kill them. That's not the worst part."

Why am I telling her this? I shouldn't be telling her this. I never told Annie this, but then again, she knew all about it. Although she never killed anyone, not really. Of course, she saw her district partner's head land at her feet. I wonder if she's going through worse now. I hope not. I pray not. Maybe she's dead anyway. In heaven. I should be wishing for that. But I'm too selfish. I've always been too selfish.

"Finnick," she prods. Again I wonder how long she's been trying to get my attention. "What is the worst part?"

She's trying to keep me talking. Not the best topic to latch onto. If she wants me to talk, she should ask me about Annie. But then again, she wants me to get my mind off Annie. I don't want to get my mind off Annie.

"For me? The worst part is living with the knowledge that you didn't get yourself killed off when you had the chance."

Peeta has started screaming on the television, but neither of us are watching. That little girl is looking at me with piercing blue eyes that make me feel sick. I think about asking for another nurse after this. This girl makes me think too much.

"You don't deserve to die, Finnick."

"Don't I?" I ask, staring straight at her, willing her to look into my eyes and see the mangled but monstrous soul that Snow has helped me create.

She doesn't even flinch. Annie never flinched either, except this girl isn't Annie. As sweet as Annie, but definitely not Annie.

"No," she finally answers. "You don't."

Peeta is done on the television, and the girl turns it off.

"Get some sleep now. I have to check on my other patients."

"I'm not going to be able to sleep."

"Okay. Um. I'll have another nurse bring something to distract you. But please try to be optimistic?"

"After a while, optimism gets beaten out of you," I mutter, but she's already gone. I sigh and close my eyes, then yank them open again when all I can see is Annie's cold, dead body.

**A/N-**

**I hope I didn't do Finnick's crazy-self too badly. Katniss continually mentioned that his main problem was focusing, so that's what I tried to project. I rewrote the whole chapter a couple of different times because I wasn't quite sure about it, but I think that this is my best one. I'd love to hear what you think.**

**Thanks to all my reviewers. I'm really glad that everyone seemed to like the way I wrote the last chapter. And 120 reviews? Wow. I didn't even notice how high I was getting, but that's just amazing. Please keep it up.**

**And lastly, I will try to get my updates back to weekly now, but please don't fear if it's a couple days late. I'm juggling three stories at once, so sometimes I will be a little slow. Oh, and I kind of hurried to get this up, so please point out any typos if you see them.**

**Thank you.**

**~bballgirl32~**


	23. Anchor

The blonde woman comes back the next day. She's carrying a rope. My first thought is that perhaps they are going to hang me, or that maybe I could hang myself, but it's clearly to short for any sort of hanging.

I vaguely wondered if they hanged Annie. That wouldn't be Snow's style, though. Too quick, too painless. He would have thought up some special death for her, if she's dead.

I hope she's not dead. Or maybe I should hope that she is dead. I'm still having trouble deciding that.

"Hello, Finnick," the woman says in Katniss's voice. I think of how much Katniss is like what Annie used to be, before her Games. I wonder where Annie would be now if Snow hadn't sent her away to kill her off because Finnick Odair could not possibly have a girlfriend. I wonder where she'd be if she hadn't given me that spunky look that she used so often back then, the one that clearly said she thought I was crazy, after I told her that it would be a good idea to keep our relationship a secret. I wonder if Snow would have ignored her if I wouldn't have rubbed my love for her in his face, if I would have played good Finnick for the cameras like I should have.

Yeah. He probably would have. But I was stupid, and I still am stupid, and now I'm never going to get a chance to make it up.

"Finnick," the woman prods. Right. I look up at her, make an effort to focus. She hands me the rope. "My daughter suggested that we give you something to distract yourself. One of our nurses came up with this idea. They remember the knots that they showed you making during training."

Knots. I loved tying knots in Annie's soft hair. Hair the color of dark chocolate. Beautiful hair. Everyone says they like my hair so much, but Annie's is so much better. Richer. If Annie isn't dead and we do get a happily ever after, I want all of our kids to have dark chocolate hair like hers.

Of course, that would involve her being alive, which I have my doubts about. And even if she is alive, I wouldn't marry me if I were her. I put her through everything she's been through. I would hate me and kick me, and then go off and find a guy like Peeta, who definitely isn't dead, and who summarizes the Games in pretty words that make everyone feel so sorry for him. Annie would feel sorry for him because she's like that. She would see him as a wounded deer and go and love him, because he's the kind of person that she deserves. Not me. Never me.

"She thought that maybe you would like to tie knots in the rope," the woman says. "That it may distract you."

I take the rope and stare at the woman. I don't want distractions. I want to think about Annie. I need to think about Annie. What is there other than Annie?

"I heard that you watched Peeta," the woman tries. "What did you think of what he said?"

That most of it was a blur in my ears. That the stuff I did hear was _wrong. _And that Annie would have had a much better interview, and would have been so much prettier, and that I would have liked it a heck of a lot better.

"Well," the woman continues, seeing that I'm not going to answer. "I will admit that I am somewhat worried about him calling for a ceasefire. What do you think?"

Ceasefire? I must have missed that part. I bet that Plutarch isn't happy with him. What about Annie? She's with Peeta, in the Capitol. What if she gets blamed, too? Will she get back here, just to get imprisoned?

"Come on, Finnick. You have to try to focus on maintaining at least a simple conversation."

Why? What's the point of talking with these people? They don't know. They don't care. They probably all think that I'm a man-whore anyway. Like everyone in District Four. Like Annie's parents. I wonder if they're still alive. I never even asked. I hope they are. Annie would be mad if they weren't. I doubt that anyone knows, nor cares, though. They were just people. Not Victors. They're probably still in District Four. I wish Annie was still in District Four. I wish I was still in District Four, too. With the long beaches, and the beautiful ocean, and the house in Victor's village where I kissed her for the very first time-

"Finnick. How are you going to help Annie if you don't get better?"

I freeze. Look at her.

Is she right? Is there any chance to help Annie? Will I get to help her if I get myself out of the stupid hospital?

"Yes, if you can start to complete normal, everyday tasks, eventually you'll get to join the army, and then you'll be able to help Annie."

Army. Help Annie….

But what if it's too late? She could be dead already. Besides, this woman is probably not serious. She doesn't care about Annie like she should. If anyone cared about Annie like they should, she would be back here. If I cared about Annie like I should, I would then let her go to Peeta so that the wonderful good people of the world could get a fairy tale ending while the crazy murders would be broken and alone forever.

I'll probably be alone anyway, though. Because no one cares about Annie like they should, and so they won't rescue her, and I'm never going to get out of the hospital because this woman isn't serious, and-

_FOCUS! _

"When will I be able to help Annie?"

"When you get better," she answers. When I get better. How will I get better? Should I let myself get better? What if something so bad happened to Annie that she'll never get better?

Could I get better, even if I wanted to? Or is my brain fried and my heart broken, and the only thing left that I can do is lie in bed while broken, torturous thoughts run through my head?

The woman must see despair on my face because she tightens my light grip on the rope.

"Try using that. You would make a nurse very happy if I told her that Finnick Odair used her idea."

_And do I care about a slutty nurse? _

But even as I think that, my fingers curl tightly around the rope. I tied knots since I could walk, back when I was six and starting to work on my father's ships. I tied them during my first Games, to make the net that would later make me famous, that I was supposed to use with Annie's step-sister but never got the chance to. I tied them in between my two Games. In Annie's hair. In seaweed, while messing around with Rafe. And I tied them in my last Games, during training.

So many knots. I like knots. I've always been good at tying knots. And they're so simple, so easy. To me, there's nothing complicated about them.

So I pick up the string and focus. First I focus on memories. This is the knot that my father first taught me. This is the one that Annie got mad at me for doing in her hair because I couldn't get it out. This is the one that I finished for Katniss just a few weeks ago. I used this one in my first Games to secure the net. This one would make a very good noose for me if I happened to be a mouse.

I do that for hours, focusing on that one piece of string and trying not to let anything else creep into my head. Of course, thoughts of Annie leak in every now and then, but I start tying faster. I cling to that rope like a lifeline and let it pull me back up.

Soon, I run out of memories of knots, so I start making new ones. That one looks like a mushroom. And that one is pretty. Like Annie. I wonder if Annie is still pretty… and that one is going to be a bitch to get undone.

I hurry to untie it and then start again, my fingers stinging and bleeding, my brain a jumbled mess, and my heart shattered with longing.

But I'm doing something. I'm not wallowing. It's not a real step to getting better. Not even a baby step. Maybe just a small little twitch that really doesn't get me anywhere.

It is _something, _though, and that's what gives me just the tiniest glimmer of the ability to hope. The fact that I'm able to do _something. _

_I wonder if Annie can do anything. _

I shrug off the question and force myself to get lost in the painful, aching knots.

**A/N- **

**I apologize for how short the chapter is, but it's not like Finnick is exactly busy at the moment, so… But don't worry, they'll got longer soon. **

**Now, thanks to brooke13243546 and Daydreaming Viking Girl for reviewing. **

**Really special thanks to RueofDistrict11 for pointing out Prim's Oocness, and the fact that she wasn't 14 (for whatever reason I counted that a year took place for each of the last two books). When I went back to reread it after that, I could see that I really didn't write her well, so I did change her part slightly to hopefully reflect her more, as well as her age. **

**Also special thanks to crescentrose22 for reassuring me on how I was portraying Finnick. **

**Lastly, I'd like to thank everyone who's reading this, and all of the great people who've favorited the story, and… I think that's it. **

**I should update again before next weekend, hopefully. **

**~bballgirl32**


	24. Agreement

Up. Over. Through. Left. Pull. Down. Up. Across. Through. Pull.

"Hello, Finnick."

It is the girl again. Not the blonde haired girl. A different one. Apparently the one who came up with the idea of the rope. She now thinks that we apparently have a connection. Her voice is sickly sweet, and her smile reminds me of the ones that I used to see in the Capitol. I can feel her standing too close to me.

Cross. Through. Up. Across. Left. Pull.

"Would you like to go for a walk?"

"No."

I wonder if Annie can still walk. Maybe they broke her legs, or cut them off, or maybe she's unconscious, or dead.

Across. Through. Left. Up-

"Well it wasn't a question. There's a big meeting called, and everyone is required to be there."

"So?"

Up. Pull.

"You _have _to go," she says. She puts a hand on my arm. I look up at her.

"Before you decide to feel me up, I hope that you realize I charge for my services," I say dully.

Her hand drops, her face beet red.

I vaguely wonder if she's embarrassed, or disgusted. I'd be disgusted. Annie was never disgusted. God, I miss Annie.

Damnit. Rope. Focus on the rope.

Through. Left. Up. Over. Pull. Back. Right. Down. Through. Across. Pull.

"Er, you do have to go, Finnick," she says.

"No, I don't." The girl throws her arms up into the air in frustration.

"Do you need help?" a sweet voice asks the girl. A sweet voice that is real and makes me think of Annie because of how pure it is. The blonde girl is walking over to us, giving the other girl a vaguely disapproving look.

Annie gave me hundreds of looks like that, especially when we were younger…

Across. Left. Down. Over. In. Right. Pull.

"Yes, _please,_" she says pleadingly.

Then she leaves. Annie would never leave, even though she should. I miss Annie. I want Annie back. In my arms. Where I can protect her.

I feel a small hand on mine, soft, gentle fingers tracing my bigger ones, raw from the rope.

"You're hurting yourself." I don't answer, and she changes the subject. "You really are supposed to go to the meeting. Katniss will be there, too."

Katniss. Someone I know, a person who has the smallest idea of what I am feeling, a person who I can trust.

I haven't thought about seeing her, but when the idea is placed before me, I decide that I want to.

I want to see Annie, too. I would give anything to see Annie. I can never see Annie. I want my rope, but the girl's hands are still on mine, supposed to be comforting but now confining. Forcing me to answer.

"Okay," I finally say. The girl smiles her pretty smile. Although it's not as pretty as Annie's smile. Nothing is as pretty as Annie's smile. I love Annie's smile.

I tear my hands away from the girl's, start focusing on the rope again.

Up. Through. Left. Down-

"Finnick?" the girl asks uncertainly.

Right. I have to go. Get up. Leave.

They've already taken the restraints off my bed, but I still haven't been out of the hospital since I got here. I've only been out of my bed a handful of times.

I hesitate, then swing my legs off of the edge of the bed before carefully standing. My head swims for a moment, but I collect my bearings quickly.

The girl grins.

"There you go. Now come on. It starts very soon."

She then leads me to a crowd of other hospital patients. I join them, keeping my attention focused on my rope instead of on them, ignoring the way that I feel as though I am part of a herd of cattle. A herd of messed up, injured, brainless cattle.

Up. Through. Left. Down. Across. Pull.

We continue forward.

Right. Down. Twist. Up. Through. Cross. Pull.

Into an enormous room, filled with people. Too many people. Annie used to love people. People loved Annie. I used to like people. I don't any more. I've realized how terrible people can be, the horrors that they can push themselves to accomplish, and now it feels like people do more harm than good. My eyes take in the crowd, and it feels like I'm about to suffocate.

Right. Through. Right. Up. Pull.

Twist. Down. Across. Right. Right. Up. Through. Pull.

Voices. Someone talking to me.

Right. Twist. Through. Down. Up-

Someone nudges me.

"Finnick! How are you doing?"

I jerk my head up. Black hair. Gray eyes. A forced smile that doesn't reach those eyes.

"Katniss," I say. I grip her hand tightly, relieved to see someone I know and trust, someone who _understands. _"Why are we meeting here?"

"I told Coin I'd be her Mockingjay. But I made her promise to give the other tributes immunity if the rebels won. In public, so there are plenty of witnesses."

Coin. The president here. I think. And Katniss says she'll be her Mockingjay, the face of the rebellion…she's going to help win the war, to help with Annie.

Annie… She said she's giving victors immunity. So Annie won't be hurt.

"Oh. Good," I tell her. "Because I worry about that with Annie. That she'll say something that could be construed as traitorous without knowing it."

"Don't worry, I took care of it," she says, and squeezes my hand. Then she leaves to talk to a woman, Coin, maybe, probably about Mockingjay stuff.

I wish I had power like that, so I could rescue Annie. But I suppose that it's not helping Katniss with Peeta, so maybe I should be glad that I don't have that kind of responsibility.

Too much thinking.

Up. Through. Pull. Right. Left. Down-

A tall, dark-haired man instructs the hospital patients to their seats. Katniss sits down beside me a moment later.

Through. Twist. Across. Right. Left-

"Could I have your attention?" the woman who I assume to be Coin booms. There's something condescending in her voice, something wrong with her eyes, and my instincts immediately identify her as a threat. I reflexively reach for my knife, but of course, I'm not allowed a knife. Unstable. Too weak. I would be ashamed of it if I knew those labels won't completely true.

The woman continues talking. I know what she's going to say, so I continue tying my rope, my head only jerking up when she mentions Annie, then returning to my work when the name passes.

Coin pauses when mumbles start rumbling through the crowd.

The people are not happy. I look to Katniss, and see her glaring at everyone who is sending her hostile glances. They don't think the victors should get immunity.

I want to stand up and scream at them. I want to ask them if they would want to be imprisoned as traitors if they were being tortured to say things they don't mean, after already being ripped of their humanity in an arena where they were forced to kill people.

But I have attention problems, not stupidity problems, so I keep my mouth shut and attempt to focus on Coin's remaining words.

I manage to pay just enough attention to hear her say, "It follows that any deviance from her mission, in either motive or deed, will be viewed as a break in the agreement. The immunity would be terminated and the fare of the four victors determined by the law of District Thirteen. As would her own. Thank you."

Katniss stiffens, and I can almost see so many more tons of pressure being placed on her thin shoulders. Now she can't mess up, or everyone else will go down with her.

I want to comfort her, but I'm not dumb enough to think that a few words will make any difference. So I give her a parting glance, then follow the other hospital patients from the room when they usher us away, hoping that Katniss won't mess up for Annie's sake, and her own.

**A/N- **

**I really don't have anything to say, so I'll just send a thanks to- brooke13243546, RueofDistrict11, Daydreaming Viking Girl, HypRRNeRD, and Hahukum Konn (thanks for helping with the chronology thing, btw). **

**Other than that, thank you all for reading, and please review. **

**~bballgirl32~ **


	25. Greasy Sae

"Good morning, Finnick."

I look up. The woman with Katniss's voice is standing in front of me. I'm not sure why she is here. Usually it's just the nurses, the really young blond one, the older one who came up with the idea for the rope, and several others. But rarely an actual medical person.

I think back to the doctor back in District 4, the friendly dark-haired woman who attended to Annie millions of years ago, back when I accidentally slashed her with my knife.

Then it was an accident. Now I wonder if people aren't carving up her face on purpose now, like what Clove was trying to do with Katniss during the 74th Games. Her smooth skin getting flayed off into pieces…

My fingers quickly resume tying knots.

Right. Through. Up. Down. Left.

"Plutarch just spoke with the head doctor."

I look up at her, curious.

"Can I go help Annie now?"

Her blue eyes are sympathetic. I know her answer before she says it.

"No, you can't. I'm sorry, Finnick. But you are going to be one step closer. They want you to try to get out more. You're allowed to walk around freely now."

So I'm not being held captive anymore. Annie still is. Still in her cell, if she's alive at all…

Twist. Through. Left. Up. Right. Tie.

"Okay," I say.

She waits for something. I don't know what she wants, so I keep tying my knots.

Finally, she leaves. The little blonde girl comes ten minutes later. She's smiling. I still don't like her smile, or maybe I like it too much. Either way, it reminds me of Annie.

I told her that once, and she told me that I only thought that because I related everything to Annie. There wasn't anything I could say to that, because it's true.

But I still think that she has Annie's smile, anyway.

I wonder if Annie will ever smile again.

I look down at my rope.

The girl plops down on the side of my bed.

"I bet that you're tired of hospital food. I know where the kitchens are. Do you want to go get something to eat?"

I'm not hungry. I'm never hungry anymore.

She begs me with her blue eyes, her lower lip jutted out.

I know exactly what Annie would be saying right now. She would be going off her head, pleading with me to make the little girl happy. Disappointed if I didn't go with her.

I decide to do something that would make Annie happy.

"I suppose," I concede, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

She beams, those pretty blue eyes shining like Christmas lights, and we start to head out of the hospital.

"Great. There's this woman there named Greasy Sae, and I think that you'll like her. She's from District 12."

District 12. I furrow my brow. Suddenly the girl's face matches with another, one that I saw on my television screen a little over a year ago.

"Are you Katniss's sister?" I ask. She smiles proudly and nods.

"Yes, I am. Even though I'm never going to be as brave as she is."

I look at her closely, think of being twelve and chosen for the Games. She didn't cry. I was fourteen and I almost cried. I think of the little pieces I've heard of what happened to District 12, about the firebombs and how there's no district left, and how bad they starved there even when it did still exist.

This girl… I can't even remember her name, is probably more brave than Katniss, more brave than me. I can see in her eyes that she's like Annie and Peeta, that she's strong enough to deal with those things and still be such a good person, so decent.

I put a hand on her small shoulder and smile a weak smile.

"I don't think that your sister would agree with that," I say, because Katniss and I are so much alike, and I know exactly what she would think.

The girl blushes and ducks her head. I can see that she doesn't like talking about herself.

"That's because she doesn't see herself very clearly. I don't think that you do either, Finnick."

"I think I see myself a little too clearly," I mutter. "A prostitute and a murderer. I really don't want to look anymore closely."

"What did you just say?" she asks, stopping and regarding me with eyes more serious than I've ever seen on her. I pause for a moment, then realize what I told her.

"You misunderstood me," I mutter, my hands flying back to my rope, willing myself to lose myself in the knots so that I can get away from any questions that this girl might ask.

"No, I didn't. You said that you were-"

Loop. Pull. Right. Left. Twist. Down. Right. Through.

She stops talking and puts her hands on her hips, giving me a stern look.

"Listen to me, Finnick."

God, Annie used to do that, the exact same thing. I miss Annie. Will I ever seen Annie again? I better see Annie again. I will see Annie again. I will, I will, I will.

"Please, you can talk to me. I'm not just some little kid."

I know that, but I don't want to talk about it. Too painful. I didn't even talk to Annie about it. She knew what was going on, but never asked for details. Now here, this little girl is pressing for me to tell _her_.

"You were never the person that Snow had us see, were you?"

So gentle, and sweet, and perfect, and I know that I'm not going to tell her because there are some things that people as innocent as her shouldn't hear, no matter how strong they are.

Annie shouldn't have known, but I had to tell her. Because of her reactions those first few times, because of the way that she looked at me and cried, and how heartbroken she would have been otherwise.

Suddenly, I feel like I want to break down and cry, right in the middle of some District 13 hallway, in front of a thirteen year-old girl who is clearly under some kind of delusion that I'm brave, and strong, and everything else that I'm not.

Then she's hugging me, and it's ridiculous because she's over a foot shorter than me and hardly weighs a third of what I do, but somehow it feels like she's strong enough to hold me together anyway, and things don't seem quite so bad anymore.

I take a deep, shuddering breath, then pull away from her. A forced smile finds its way onto my lips, and she gives me a gentle one in return.

"I won't say anything," she says. "Now come on, let's get going. Greasy Sae will love to meet you."

I follow after her, realizing that Annie loved to meet new people, wondering what kind of horrible people she's meeting in the Capitol.

Prim opens a door, and I follow her in, the thought of Annie still nagging at me. I look around, trying to push it away.

The kitchens are busy, people cooking and cleaning left and right. An grizzled old woman who had been stirring a pot of soup cuts through the hoards of people and starts over to us, something like a smile on her face.

"That's Greasy Sae," Prim says to me. She then turns to the woman and gives her one of her sweet smiles."

"Always wonderful to see you, Prim," the woman says, then looks at me curiously. "And is that Finnick Odair? You're uglier than I thought you'd be."

I pull up short at a moment before I realize that she's joking. I get my lips to curve into a flirtatious smile and take an obnoxious step closer to her.

"That's just because I look better naked. You wanna see?"

"You show me, I'll show you, eh?" she asks conspiratorially, going for what I speculate is supposed to be a flirtatious smile of her own, but comes out to be nothing but creepy.

I step backwards so fast that I almost fall, and she starts chortling.

"You're cute. I'll give you that," Greasy Sae laughs, and I realize that once again, she wasn't serious.

But really, cute?

Who in their right mind would call me cute?

"It's okay, Finnick," Prim says, patting my hand. "I think that you're positively terrifying."

And the look on her face is so condescending that I start laughing almost hysterically because she's barely half my age, and she's little, and sometimes when you aren't entirely sane, little things can become incredibly funny.

Greasy Sae shakes her head at me, but Prim just starts laughing too, and for the first time I wonder if maybe there isn't some kind of chance that I will get well, that maybe things aren't so bad after all.

Then Greasy Sae offers me food, and I wonder if Annie is getting any food where she's at, and I immediatly return to tying my knots.

**A/N- **

**I'm in a good mood, so I decided on a happy ending. Besides, Finnick starts popping up more and more in the book, so it's time that he begins to get his act together. **

**Thanks to RueofDistrict11, brooke13243545 (**Finnick had concentration problems bad enough to have him in the hospital, so he wasn't in good condition at the start of the book, but he is fine for most of the parts that he's in just because they're later on. He'll get better soon), **HypRRNeRd, ****and solid as a cloud for reviewing. **

**And no promises, but I'm going to try to update this story two or three times a week now, just so that I can finish it before school (barf) starts again. I'll also probably try to finish Sibling Rivalry up within the next week or two. So be prepared for updates... as long as I don't get sidetracked. **

**Please review, and hopefully I'll have another chapter up Monday or Tuesday. **

**~bballgirl32~ **


	26. Propos

"Are you going to do any propos soon?"

"Oh, Finnick, you're looking good. How are you?"

"A few weeks of bed rest sure didn't do anything to those wonderful arms of yours, did they, Finnick?"

I resist the urge to groan. Prim had told me that Katniss was starting to film the Mockingjay propos later today, so I decided to stop by the set. The moment that I stepped foot into the room, a trio of girl's came rushing over.

"Um," I start, and they all shut their mouths immediately, as though I'm going to say something big and special. I don't have the heart to chase them away, but if I try to ask nicely, I know that they won't leave. I move so that the bracelet on my left wrist is more visible.

_Hey, look, I'm mentally ill. See? Don't flirt with the mentally ill guy! _

They don't notice. Out of the corner of my eye, I see more girls starting to drift over. I don't want these girls. I want Annie. Annie. God, I miss Annie…

My hands reach for my rope, but I realize that I left it back on my bed. I've been doing that, trying to function without it. But I've never been this far away from it.

"Look, we've rendered him speechless," one of the girls coos.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. If they don't notice my bracelet, then I will draw their attention to the fact that I am mentally ill in other ways.

I jump backwards.

"Brutus? Enobaria? Cashmere?" I start backing away. "Stay away from me! Damnit, stay away! I have a knife!"

They run away like I bit them.

"Impressive, Odair. I see that you still have a way with the ladies."

I turn around, grinning when I see Haymitch shaking his head at me.

"I heard that you were in isolation," I tell him. "Prim told me that you weren't taking the no-alcohol rule well."

He must've gotten over not taking it well, though, because he actually looks decent for once. Shaved, clear-eyed, wearing clean clothes. It's a small miracle in of itself.

"That would be an understatement," he grumbles. "And what about you? I heard that you were going off the deep end."

"I went off the deep end a long time ago," I say. "I've just managed to stay afloat until now."

"Well, keep it up a little longer," he says. "You've always been a damn good swimmer. Besides, I bet that you could make a few good propos, yourself. Read a few love poems, that'll get 'em fighting."

I roll my eyes.

"More like fainting."

Fainting. Falling. Crashing to the ground. Dying.

Damn, damn, damn. Why didn't I bring my rope?

Right. Because I'm not going to be able to use it if I ever go to rescue Annie.

"If it was the enemy, that would be fine. Better than what they want to do with Katniss. It's like District 13 is just another version of the Capitol." I look at him in confusion, and he shakes his head. "You'll see. Are you going to hang around here?"

"It's not like I have anything else to do," I say.

"Good. I won't be able to talk to you any, but getting out is good for you."

"That is exactly what Katniss's mother says. Have you ever considered-"

"Do not even try to play matchmaker with me, Odair," he growls. "I finished with girls a long time ago."

I give him a strange look, but he's clearly not going to elaborate, so I say, "What a pity. I have several that I would love to dump off on you. Especially my nurses."

"Nurses. What are they, sixteen?"

"About," I say. "But it doesn't stop them from flirting with someone who's twenty four. Who says that they'll stop at fifty."

He glares at me.

"I was sixteen in my Games. They were twenty five years ago. Do you _know _how to do math?"

"Not really," I joke. "I quit school when I was fourteen. Why? Did I guess low?"

He walks away, shaking his head and muttering about smartass head-cases.

I smile as I wander towards the sound stage for a better look. There are cameras and light, but no Katniss.

There is a Plutarch, though.

I back away, not wanting him to see me, but his eyes latch on and he runs over anyway.

"Finnick, you look better."

I'm extremely tempted to do to him what I did to those girls, but I know that he has a lot of say in who rescues Annie, and I don't want to offend him, even though at the moment I am very, very mad at him for not caring enough to get her out of District 4 in the first place.

"Thanks," I force out, even though I know that I don't _look _better. I still look terrible, by my standards anyway. Of course, Plutarch probably doesn't realize that. Usually ugly bastards like him are so jealous that all good looking people look the same to them.

"How are you doing? Doctor Michaels tells me that you may be able to start training within a few weeks."

Weeks? _WEEKS? _

I want to tell him that I'm fine, to laugh, to make him think that I'm being a good Finnick and not caring that he's sitting here making movies when Annie could be _dying_, or that he's saying it'll be weeks before I can even start training when my problems have never been physical in the first place.

Instead, I snap, "Well, I would be better if you'd bother to get off your lazy ass and find Annie."

He backs off quickly, holding up his hands like he's scared that I'm going to jump at him. The Finnick that he knew back in the Capitol was always cool, always quiet. He doesn't realize that I'm angry, not crazy.

Moron.

I've always hated people from the Capitol.

"We're trying, Finnick," he says soothingly. "It'd be a waste of personnel if we barged in there and tried to yank her out. And if we bother going to the Capitol, we'd have to get Johanna and Peeta, too, and they'd both be under higher-security."

Because even the Capitol doesn't think that Annie is important.

"You've had two months to work everything out! I thought you were supposed to be smart! I bet that the only reason you rebelled in the first place is that you couldn't stomach the blood and guts in the Games. You filthy piece of weak, pathetic, Capitol scum."

"Calm down, Finnick," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "I can get you sedated if I need to."

"Wave you magic wand and show off your wonderful power?" I laugh. "And you did absolutely nothing to deserve it, that's the funny part. I've killed, fought for my life, and served as the Capitol's resident gigolo for eight years, and I'm stuck in a hospital with brain problems, probably being laughed at over coffee by you and your little friends."

God, I sound crazy, but it feels so good to yell at him. It would feel better to hold a trident over his heart until he promised to find Annie, but that would probably be counterproductive.

"Calm down, Finnick. Maybe you should go back to the hospital."

"Find Annie, or you'll be the one needing the hospital," I spit, then back away from him and leave the room. For a very, very long time, I simply pace back and forth through the hallways, my heart pounding and my thoughts swarming. I desperately need my rope right now, but going back to the hospital would be just like listening to Plutarch.

Plutarch. Shithead. He doesn't care. He's going to get Annie killed. He doesn't get it, he doesn't know.

I sink to the floor. He really doesn't know. He has no one, he doesn't get what this is like, doesn't understand.

Maybe that should make me feel bad. It doesn't. I have no doubt that my words will start working their way through his self-conscious little brain, that they won't leave him alone until he finally does decide to send a rescue mission to the Capitol, and that makes any bad blood totally worth it.

I take a deep breath and push myself to my feet. I should go watch Katniss.

After a small hesitation, I return to the room and wander around the sides of the set, avoiding eye-contact with Plutarch.

Katniss arrives eventually, looking stunning but very un-Katniss-like and uncomfortable. I realize that Haymitch was right, that this district is just another version of the Capitol. They've got her bloody and dirty, like she's just been in battle. Her face is painted so much that I wouldn't recognize her if I ran into her in the street, and they spend hours just getting the lighting right.

This is the same thing as all of those videos that they made of me being a happy victor, of friendly Peacekeepers happily patrolling the districts, or the scenes of a charred District 13.

Maybe that should give us leave to lie to everyone, because the Capitol did it, but it still feels wrong. We're fighting to get rid of all the deceit, but how are we going to do that when we're what we're fighting with?

I sigh and look back at Katniss. She can see it, too, in the way that she's conducting herself, the look in her eyes while they adjust her makeup and the smoke machine.

It's just like getting made over for the Games all over again. And what's the point? Do the rebels really need a rallying point? Isn't the thought of freedom enough?

This is a waste of time, and money. The only way that Katniss would make a real difference is if she would get in a hovercraft and go fight.

I swallow, knowing that I could do something more if I got a little screen time, but that would involve saying things that I don't want to say. I push the thought out of my head. Snow would kill Annie if I breathed a word of it, anyway.

If she isn't already dead.

I ignore the possibility and continue my wandering. Eventually Plutarch announces that they're finished, and I mosey over to where Katniss is looking at herself on a monitor.

"They'll either want to kiss you, kill you, or be you," I joke. She laughs, her eyes still focused on the screen as if in disbelief.

The awe of being beautiful. And she is, very beautiful. I just wonder if she realizes that the people in the districts know what she really looks like and aren't going to appreciate the ruse.

Then I figure that she'll get over it in twenty minutes tops. Katniss isn't stupid.

Plutarch and another Capitol woman call Katniss back, saying that they want to try to film the first scene to show to Coin.

I lean back against a wall and look on interestedly as they reposition her.

They double-check all of the lighting and makeup, and then someone shouts, "Action!"

Katniss steps forward, holds her bow over her head, and yells, "People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice!"

Everyone goes silent. I bite my lip against an amused smirk. I can see the fancy Capitol people looking at each other worriedly, as if wondering what in the hell they're going to do.

I wonder if they realize that people like Katniss Everdeen because she's real. So real that she can't act to save her own life. And the quote? What has she done to hint that she would say _anything _even close to that. I'm sure that they're very proud of it, but I could have thought of something better.

Then Haymitch's laughter starts projecting over the intercom, filling the silent studio. He stops for just a moment to say, "And that, my friends, is how a revolution dies." Then he continues laughing.

Katniss tightens her hand on her bow, as if contemplating shooting someone, then stomps off the set without even looking at Plutarch.

I smirk at the Gamemaker and leave as well.

**A/N- Finnick's getting better. ****J. Bitter, but better. I guess I don't have much to say. I'm glad that everyone liked the last scene in Ch.25. **

**Thanks so solid as a cloud, Daydreaming Viking Girl, RueofDistrict11, cindella204, and Hahukum Konn for reviewing. **

**~bballgirl32~ **

…

**P.S.- For everyone who reads Sibling Rivalry, I am dealing with major brain farts. I know I said I'd update yesterday, but it's probably going to be late tonight or early tomorrow. Sorry. **


	27. Real

Right. Left. Pull. Through. Loop. Down-

Someone pulls the rope out of my hands. I jerk my head up, then sigh when I see Haymitch standing in front of me.

"What do you want?" I ask, my eyes looking longingly at the rope. I give myself two hours to use it early in the morning, when I have nothing to distract me from Annie, and he's wasting my precious time with it.

"You were at the filming yesterday, weren't you?" he asks, sitting himself down at the foot of my bed. I see his eyes flash to a morphling drip a few beds down, but he shakes his head and looks back at me, waiting for my answer.

"Yeah, I was. I'm actually kind of jealous. I think that they want to use Katniss as the sex symbol of the rebellion, and I was so sure that I had the job locked up."

He snorts.

"I think you're still good there, at least if you keep running around in a hospital gown."

I roll my eyes, not even pretending to be embarrassed. It's not like I'm showing off flabby legs or anything.

"I'm trying to keep the nurses motivated," I answer. "Prim says that they work their butts off because the first ones done get to feed me. As long as they keep that up, I'll continue to reward them with the sight of my amazing-"

"Finnick, I don't need a detailed description of your wonderful body. I came here to ask a favor."

A favor. I didn't expect that one. I'm not exactly in the position to be granting any requests at the moment.

"And what would that be?"

"What did you think of Katniss's acting?"

"It was terrible. Why? Are you trying to get her voted out of the Mockingjay spot or something?"

He shakes his head.

"Nothing like that. I'm not on the best of terms with her right now-"

"Laughing at her yesterday probably didn't help that," I interrupt.

"-But I'm not stupid," he continues as if I never spoke. "She's the only Mockingjay we've got. But she can't act. Once Heavensbee and his little assistant figure that one out, I think we'll all be happier."

"So you're assembling a party of people who'll convince them otherwise?" I ask. He nods.

"Exactly. Report to Command in fifteen minutes, and bring Beetee while your at it. He has trouble getting around."

"Huh. Totally forgot about him. How's he doing?" I ask, remembering seeing his body laying limply on the ground before the arena blew up.

"Don't know, I haven't seen him. He's been stuck doing research in Special Defense since he got out of the hospital. Go and drag him out, though. We need as much help as we can get. Even if he doesn't want to go, force him. It's not like he can fight you."

He can't fight me. Annie can't fight the people who have captured her.

I close my eyes, see images of her being beaten and pummeled, whipped, bloodied, almost dead.

"No, no," I whisper, shaking my head. "Rope. Rope."

I find the comforting string in my hands, and soon I'm loosing myself in knots.

Up. Right. Through. Twist. Pull.

No Annie, not here, not in my thoughts.

Left. Cross. Pull. Right. Up. Around. Down. Pull.

"Finnick, I'm still here."

Twist. Through. Left. Up. Left. Down. Over. Right. Around.

The rope is yanked out of my hands again.

I look up.

Haymitch.

Right.

"Get Beetee. Now."

I lock eyes with him, holding his gaze until he hands me the rope.

Once it's safely back in my hands, I leave the hospital, following sign after sign to Special Defense, my hands keeping busy as I walk, doing my best to ignore the obnoxious women.

"Hi, Finnick!"

"How are you doing, Finnick!"

"Your hair is so cute when you just get out of bed, Finnick!"

Annie said hi. And asked me how I was doing. She never complimented my hair, though. The only thing about my appearance that she ever complimented was my smile. She said I didn't do it enough, that most of the time I just smirked or looked like I was flirting.

I hardly ever smiled. Annie always smiled. Except when she had her episodes, those episodes that even I started to ignore, when really she was perfectly justified in having them. She always knew that they were going to come back and yank her out of her home.

I didn't believe her. I thought she was safe, that the Capitol wouldn't harm her if I did everything they told me and played my part perfectly.

Damn. Rope.

Right. Through. Left…

I miss Annie's smile. I want to see her smile again.

Up. Up… No, that doesn't work. Crap. What's wrong with me?

Lot's of things. I bet that lots of things are wrong with Annie now, too. She's probably missing teeth, and limbs, and-

_**SMACK**_!

I run face first into the Special Defense door, the impact driving me out of my meltdown.

After a couple deep breaths, I manage to get my thoughts in order enough to go and find Beetee.

He's sitting in a wheelchair, messing around with tiny green birds. His lips curl up into a smile when he sees me.

"Ah, Finnick… What did you do to your face? It's red."

"I walked into a door," I say dismissively. "Um. I was supposed to get you. Haymitch wants us at a meeting. It's about Katniss."

My eyes scan the room, taking in guns and other things that I don't quite want to know the purpose of.

I look away and wonder if any of those are being used on Annie, if Snow has special torture devices that they're using to slowly drive her insane… really insane, not just distracted… so completely insane that she'll slip into a vegetative state and won't ever really see again…

Damn, damn, damn.

I need my rope.

"Finnick," Beetee says firmly. I snap my eyes over to him. "I will go if you can push me. Are you okay to do that?"

He's talking to me like I'm a kid again, and it's pissing me off. Just because Beetee has a machine for a heart doesn't mean that I do. Just because he can electrocute a dozen kids in the most grotesque way possible and not let it effect him doesn't mean that I can. And just because he can shut off his heart so that he's more in love with his computers than any real person doesn't mean that I'll ever manage it.

"Fine," I tell him shortly. "The corners might be a little tough, but I'm sure that I can manage with your help."

"Good," he say, not even catching my sarcasm. "Now, I have been working very had to develop….."

His words fade out of my consciousness as the average syllable count rises to at least six. Instead I start focusing on the tile patterns in the hallways, not able to use my rope when I'm pushing Beetee around.

I eventually fine my way to Command, and we enter an already mostly full room. President Coin is sitting at the head of the table, with Plutarch and the other Capitol woman at her right, and a beefy soldier-type at her left.

She looks at me lazily, looking at me as though I am some kind of top-secret weapon that wasn't built quite right.

I take a seat as far away from her as possible, but Beetee rows obnoxiously to the head of the table, between Katniss and Plutarch.

A moment later, an unfamiliar man rushes in, and then Haymitch stands and welcomes everyone, thanking them for coming and reintroducing himself even though I'm sure that he invited the majority of the group personally.

When the introductions are done, the first thing that he does is show the footage that they shot the day before. It's almost funnier the second time around, seeing Katniss's jerky movements and disjointed words.

"All right," Haymitch says when it's over. "Would anyone like to argue that this is of use to us in winning the war?"

_We could show it in the Capitol over and over and torture everyone to death. Or make them die laughing. Either way is good with me. _

No one has any comments that they say out loud, and Haymitch nods.

"That saves time. So let's all be quiet for a minute. I want everyone to think of one incident where Katniss Everdeen genuinely moved you. Not where you were jealous of her hairstyle or her dress went up in flames or she made a halfway decent show with an arrow. Not where Peeta was making you like her. I want to hear one moment where _she_ made you feel something real."

I bite my lip and try to think, racking my thoughts for the first time in a long time.

The list goes on and on.

Her volunteering in the Games. When she sang for Rue. Holding out the berries. Crying over Peeta when I had to restart his heart. Trying to carry Mags. Screaming for her family and friends when we were trapped by the jabber jays, shooting them again and again when I gave up immediately. Laughing with her on the beach, scaring Peeta or joking about making me pretty again. Watching her pick up the arrow and turn it to the force field, seeing her turn the spark she had started a year ago into an inferno.

It seems that whenever Katniss Everdeen does something, something unscripted and real, she makes you feel.

A girl I don't recognize breaks up a long silence, mentioning when Katniss volunteered for Prim. The beefy man at Coin's side surprisingly recounts her singing to Rue. One of her stylists adds drugging Peeta to save his life. I continue by mentioning when she tried to carry Mags. A half a dozen people reference the berries.

Haymitch has at least four pages filled with ideas when he holds up his hand to have everyone stop.

"So, the question is, what do all of these have in common?"

"They were Katniss's," a boy says. Katniss's cousin. Except not her cousin. Gale. The one she chose over Peeta. Or maybe the one who kept her from choosing Peeta. I'm not sure. "No one told her what to say."

"Unscripted, yes!" says Beetee. He pats Katniss's hand. "So we should just leave you alone, right?"

People laugh. I don't think it's funny. I've never spent much time with Beetee before, but he grates on me for some reason.

"Well, that's all very nice but not very helpful," Plutarch's Capitol friend chirps angrily. I take it that she was the one who came up with the idea to stick Katniss in the studio. Plutarch doesn't look happy either. I can feel myself calming down from my episode earlier. Angry Capitol people always cheer me up. "Unfortunately, her opportunities for being wonderful are rather limited here in Thirteen. So unless you're suggesting we toss her into the middle of combat-"

"That's _exactly _what I'm suggesting. Put her out in the field and just keep the cameras rolling," says Haymitch, and I grin.

Real Katniss. Just what the Districts need.

"But people think she's pregnant," Gale points out.

"We'll spread the word that she lost the baby from the electrical shock in the arena. Very sad. Very unfortunate."

More lies, all from the Capitol people

Then again, I suppose that Peeta started that particular lie, but I can't be mad at Peeta when he's in Annie's situation, so I blame Plutarch instead.

There's a little bit more arguing after that, but eventually it's decided that Katniss will be sent to District 8 this afternoon.

I look at her, see her small stature and too big eyes, notice how tired she looks.

They're sending her into combat, and she's just as bad as I am.

I decide that I want to go with. Then I'll do well, and they can send me off to rescue Annie.

As soon as the meeting is dismissed, I decide to wait after and speak to President Coin.

**A/N- **

**I couldn't sleep, so I decided to work on this. It's really, really late, and I'm tired now, so I'll just say a quick thank you to everyone who reviewed and go. **

**Oh, and someone… I think Daydreaming Viking Girl, mentioned that I used Glimmer for one of his people. I went back and changed that. I meant Cashmere and I kind of got them confused. So thanks. **

**Good night. Or morning. It's actually morning. **

**~bballgirl32~**


	28. Trident

"Can I talk to you?"

President Coin stops in her tracks and turns to look at me. Several other people who had been at the meeting stop as well, but she waves them forward impatiently.

"Of course, Finnick. If anything, you deserve a few moments of my time. What can I do for you?"

Her slush-colored eyes study me carefully, as if searching to see if her inquiry had been a mistake, wondering if I am going to make an impossible demand and then explode when she says no.

I don't think that my demand is impossible. It isn't to me, at least. Then again, there are a lot of things that Coin probably wouldn't agree with me on.

"I want to go to District 8 with Katniss. I'm well enough, I really am."

She shakes her head immediately, and I know exactly what's coming next.

"No."

No. The word reverberates firmly through my ears, and I can feel my stomach plummet.

"No? Why? Look at me. I'm still in better shape than anyone else here! I can be useful."

"Yes, but you are in no shape to fight."

"I am, though. Fighting is the only thing that I can do at a time like this," I protest. "It'll take my mind off of things. Please. I have to do this. I can't just sit around while Katniss does everything."

"Finnick," she says firmly. "I'm afraid that I cannot allow this. You are in no condition to fight."

My temper is starting to wear thin, but I clutch my rope more tightly in my hand and take a step forward so that I'm only a few feet away from her.

"Then I won't fight. I'll just ride along, watch. I swear that I will not step out of the hovercraft. There cannot possibly be a problem with that."

"It'll be cramped as it is, and you have no important purpose," she says coldly. "Besides, you are not even cleared to have your own quarters, let alone go on a mission that most of our high ranking officials are not allowed to go on."

"Like Katniss?" I ask, my voice rising sharply. "She's just as crazy as I am! But of course, she's the Mockingjay, so she gets to go! What about me? I'm prettier than she is. Let. Me. Go."

Her pale eyes glance up at me, bored. I clench my fists. Bored? She's treating me like a petulant child.

"I do not have time for your temper tantrums. I'm sorry. Maybe you will be cleared to do something after a couple more weeks. This meeting is done, Finnick."

And then she walks away with her perfect hair and slush-gray eyes, and I just watch, my hands shaking, desperately wishing for some kind of weapon to send through her skull.

I sit there for a very long time, seething. I'm not stupid. Why is everyone treating me like I'm stupid? There's a difference between desperate, crazy, completely torn apart, and stupid.

Of course they don't realize that. They just see Finnick the man-whore, pissed off because he's lost all his girls.

I sit and fidget and try not to go crazy, but it doesn't work. If they won't even let me go to District 8 in a hovercraft, they'll never let me get Annie in the Capitol.

There has to be something else I can do, there has to be something.

Then I think of it. Katniss is the Mockingjay. If she wants me to go, I'll be able to go.

Hopping up excitedly, I sprint out of Command and run towards the Airborne Division, praying that she's still there.

Thankfully, Katniss is waiting for the elevator when I get there, the big soldier who was sitting next to Coin at her side. The elevator door opens, and I sprint at them, panting as I run.

"Katniss, they won't let me go. I told them I'm fine, but they won't even let me ride in the hovercraft!"

Both of them turn and look at me in surprise, and after a small hesitation, Katniss smacks herself on the head.

"Oh, I forgot. It's this stupid concussion. I was supposed to tell you to report to Beetee in Special Weaponry. He's designed a new trident for you."

Trident. They designed a trident for me. Meaning that they think that I will get better and that I'm not stupid and crazy after all.

"Really? What's it do?" I ask excitedly, my mind already spinning with how badly I _need _to touch a weapon. I don't even want to go to District 8 anymore.

"I don't know. But if it's anything like my bow and arrows, you're going to love it," she says. "You'll need to train with it, though."

Train with it. Train with it. As in use it.

"Right. Of course. I guess I better get down there," I say, already half turned around.

"Finnick? Maybe some pants," she says.

I look down at my legs and notice the hospital gown. Right. It is kind of unflattering.

I take it off.

"Why? Do you find this-" I strike the most provocative pose I can think of- "distracting?"

The soldier next to Katniss sputters, and Katniss starts laughing, and I can't help but joining in because the looks on their faces are so hilarious that they actually makes me feel _happy_.

And when Katniss says, "I'm only human, Odair," I actually feel like myself, and a goofy smile stays plastered to my face the entire way back to the hospital.

"What happened with you?" a familiar voice asks when I slide into my room, and I turn to see Prim looking at me strangely.

"I just got done talking with Katniss," I say hurriedly, rummaging through a drawer under my bed until I pull out a pull of plain gray pants and a gray t-shirt.

"_What?" _asks Prim.

I pause for a moment, then start laughing again when I realize what this would look like.

"Not like that," I correct quickly. "She just told me that Beetee made a trident for me in command, and if they made a trident for me, that means that they don't think I'm crazy."

Prim still looks concerned.

"That's great," she said. "But why are you in your underwear?"

"Why? Do _you _find it distracting?" I ask with a smirk.

"I'm only human," she says.

I pull my shirt over my head and give her a disbelieving look.

"What?" she asks.

"Nothing," I answer with a shake of my head, combing my hair with my fingers and starting out of the hospital.

"You haven't answered my question," she calls after me.

"You're too young," I yell back over my shoulder, then hurry down to Special Defense to talk to Beetee about my trident.

**A/N- **

**Sorry that was so short and so late. I've been kind of stuck on this story, buy hopefully I can get it going again soon.**

**Thanks to all my reviewers, and please keep it up.**

**~bballgirl32~**


	29. Peeta

I chuck my trident at a practice dummy, then press the button on my wrist and catch it again before spinning and taking out another dummy on my way around. My hair is plastered to my face with sweat, and I'm panting harder than I have in a long time, but even though I'm so out of shape, it feels good to be doing _something_.

The dummy behind me gets the butt of my trident in its stomach, and I roll into position so that I can impale it.

It feels like I can take on Snow himself. Despite thinking that Beetee is annoying and somewhat arrogant, the trident he gave me is amazing, and it makes me feel invincible.

With every dummy I take out, I think of Peacekeepers, or even President Snow himself, standing in front of Annie, keeping me from getting to her.

I whip around and shove the trident fiercely into a dummy's back, then yank it out and stab it again and again, imagining that it is Snow, standing directly in front of me, that he's the only thing between Annie and me, as if he'd be guarding her himself.

If there's anything left to guard.

I grit my teeth and kick the dummy.

There will be something left to guard. There has to be. I would know if Annie was dead, there's no way that I wouldn't feel it. And she doesn't have much longer to wait, it doesn't seem like it anyway.

Maybe Katniss's amazing propo, with it's dramatic images of people sitting in the hospital, so frail and weak that they remind me of Annie, and then those same people burning later, have managed to give me new inspiration, maybe even a small kind of hope.

Or maybe it's the feel of a weapon in my hands again, of having power, of knowing that if Snow came in here right now, I could tear him to pieces.

I _feel _better now, for whatever reason. Normal, like I can actually think. It's like Prim, and Katniss, and maybe even Beetee, having been picking up the little pieces of my brain and putting it back together. Like now the only thing left to do is to find Annie so she can rebuild my heart.

My trident finds its way into another dummy's chest, and I press the button to send it back to me, snatch it out of the air, and drive it clear through one's neck.

I hear a chuckle behind me and whip around, my trident held high in the air.

President Coin is standing there, smiling at me.

"Don't stop on my account. I was enjoying the show."

I balance my trident in my right hand, tilting it just a little bit to make the gesture vaguely threatening.

"You aren't here to watch me," I tell her, prodding her to say what she wants and leave.

"Of course I'm not. I have several things to tell you, actually."

"You're saving Annie?" I toss out, knowing for a fact that she's going to say no.

"Not yet," she says. "I do still think that you will appreciate the news I am giving you."

"And that is?" I toss back, wondering if there's a reason for her being evasive, or if she just wants to see how mad she can make me without getting impaled.

"You're being assigned your own quarters," she starts, and my head jerks up in surprise.

"What?" I ask unbelievingly.

"I said that you are being assigned your own quarters. _However_, Doctor Vandeek wishes for you to stay in the hospital for several more days to ensure that you don't have any relapses."

"That's fine," I say, barely able to keep the excitement out of my voice. They think that I'm good enough to leave the hospital. That's another step closer to actually training, and fighting, and rescuing Annie. "I'm going to be fine."

She smiles curtly.

"Yes, I am sure you will. In fact, your improving condition has me down here to inquire something else. I would like you to do several propos for us."

My good mood vanishes.

"What kind of propos?" I ask warily, suspecting that she's either going to want me to do something completely ridiculous, or talk about my past, neither of which I am about to agree to.

"Fulvia Cardew, one of the people we have brought in from the Capitol, has come up with the idea of making a series of videos titled 'We Remember'. They will honor fallen tributes, especially favorites. Rue. Chaff." Her eyes narrow like she's going in for the kill. "Mags."

I close my eyes and turn away, trying to block out the onslaught of emotions that come bulling my way at the mention of her name.

I haven't been thinking of her, haven't been able to think of her, of anyone other than Annie, but Coin's one mention of her brings her to the front of my mind.

A kind face. Fierce eyes. Intelligence and bravery and everything that makes a person someone you can respect. She was basically my mother. Dead.

Now Coin is saying that they will honor her, is offering me a chance to help do that. I don't like the idea of propaganda, but this wouldn't be so wrong, would it? There aren't any lies involved.

I want to help. But then again, I don't. I want to fight this war with weapons. Playing mind games, trying to get people to think one thing or another, is getting old. I've been trying to win at that since I was fourteen, and as soon as I get to a place where I don't _have _to, they're asking me to do it anyway.

But Mags. I want to do something for Mags, especially with the way I've been neglecting any thoughts of her.

"Fine," I say. "I'll do it. Is that all?"

She studies me carefully.

"You could do more, you know."

I clench my teeth, already shaking me head.

"No."

"Imagine what you could do to Snow if everyone knew what he did to _you_. Imagine what could happen if they knew what you did to _him. _Even Capitol citizens will turn against him if you would reveal some of the secrets that you learned."

The grip on my trident tightens, and I take an enormous step forward as I growl, "Imagine what he could do to Annie if I breathed a word against him!"

She pauses, seems to think something over.

"If we get Annie for you, will you tell everyone?"

"What are you playing at?" I ask suspiciously. There's no way that she'll drop everything to rescue Annie if I agree to this.

"Absolutely nothing. Answer my question."

I don't even hesitate before I say, "Unconditionally."

She nods and says, "I'll keep that in mind," before turning to leave.

I chuck my trident, hard, at a dummy not two feet away from her, but she doesn't even turn her head as she walks out the door.

…

Another propo is due to screen later that night, and after I learn that Katniss is awake for the first time since she returned from her mission to 8, I bring my supper over to her bed and plop down next to her.

I want to crack a joke or something of the sort, but she looks so beat up that I don't think it's appropriate.

"Are you okay?" I ask concernedly.

"Okay enough," she says with a shrug, but at least she looks happy to see me.

Eventually they air a propo titled "Because you know who they are and what they do". Gale, the soldier that was with Katniss earlier, and an unfamiliar face describe what's going on as they show more clips of Katniss at the hospital, then the bombs raining down, burning the helpless patients to pieces.

All that I can think about is Annie. Helpless Annie. Just like those helpless hospital people.

Katniss buries her face in her pillow during the worst parts, and I'm somewhat tempted to join her when the images get particularly gruesome.

Then it's done, and I say, "People should know what happened. And now they do," because Katniss probably wouldn't appreciate it if I tried to comfort her, and it's not like I would be able to do anything anyway, not when she was _there, _when she had seen those people burn.

She just shakes her head and says, "Let's turn it off, Finnick, before they run it again." I move to grab the remote, but she cries, "Wait!" before I can turn it off.

I quickly look back up at the screen, my brow furrowing when I see Caesar Flickerman.

Then they pan out, and it's not just Caesar anymore, but him and Peeta.

My hands clench into fists as I take him in, as I see how skinny he is, how his hands tremble and his eyes dart side to side nervously.

That is not Peeta Mellark. Whatever they're doing to him is making him lose his mind, making him less than who he was before.

I immediately look at Katniss, but she's past noticing me. Her eyes are focused on the screen, and I hear her whisper, "Oh, Peeta…" softly under her breath.

Caesar and Peeta go back and forth for a couple of minutes in a weak imitation of their old banter, and then Caesar asks him about rumors that Katniss is taping propos for the districts.

"They're using her, obviously," Peeta says. "To whip up the rebels. I doubt she even knows what's going on in the war. What's at stake."

"Is there anything you'd like to tell her?" asks Caesar.

"There is," says Peeta, his eyes focusing right on the camera, even though I can't help but think that it looks like they're going to start flashing nervously any moment again. "Don't be a fool, Katniss. Think for yourself. They've turned you into a weapon that could be instrumental in the destruction of humanity. If you've got any real influence, use it to put the brakes on this thing. Use it to stop the war before it's too late. Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with? Do you really know what's going on? And if you don't… find out."

Then the screen goes black.

I kill the power immediately, knowing that in seconds, people will be hurrying over, trying to control Katniss, assess the damage, make sure that she isn't freaking out. They will make a bigger deal out of it than she will want them to, especially when I know for a fact that she's going to never forget it if they keep reminding her of it.

Not that she'd be able to get it out of her mind anyway.

Katniss is fidgeting, her eyes going to the door, and I can see a million lies flying through her head, can hear her assuring whoever is sent for her that they don't need to worry, that she trusts them fully and isn't going to listen to Peeta at all.

She's borderline panicking. I grab her arms hard to get her attention.

"We didn't see it."

"What?" she asks.

"We didn't see Peeta. Only the propo on Eight. Then we turned the set off because the images upset you. Got it?" I ask. She nods, her lower lip quivering just slightly. "Finish your dinner."

Katniss listens to me, and moments later, Plutarch and the other woman, Fulvia, I think her name was, enter the hospital. I immediately start talking about how well Gale came across on screen and Katniss sits there and shoves food in her mouth so she doesn't have to try to lie.

I make it clear that we turned it off as soon as the show was done.

They leave without a question.

**A/N- **

**I'm on a big long trip from North Dakota to Wichita for a track meet, and am currently sitting at a McDonald's drive-thru so I only have a couple minutes to update before I lose my wi fi. I'm just going to say that I've been working on this specific story for the entire fourteen hour drive, and I've already got it down to maybe ten chapters left, and I still have the return trip, so I'm hoping to get it all finished by next Monday, and then I'll be able to start with daily updates and get this story finished before school restarts.**

**And sorry about the bad delay for Sibling Rivalry, but I'm having writer's block on the ending.**

**Now I have to go. Good-bye. **

**~bballgirl32~**


	30. Remembering

Katniss finds me that next afternoon and asks if I can go hunting with her. I'd been spending the morning wandering back and forth between my new quarters and the hospital, not sure what to do or where to go, so I say yes. It's not like I have anything else to do.

I can't help but let an enormous grin spread across my face the moment that I'm out the front door. I haven't seen sun, or felt a breeze, or breathed unrecycled air for what feels like years.

For a couple of minutes, I just stand there and take it all in, the fresh air, open spaces, shining sun.

Then I realize that Annie may never see the sun again, that if the rebels lose, she'll be kept in that cage until Snow kills her, if he hasn't' already.

I need my rope, but I left it in my room. Instead I turn to look at Katniss, remind myself that she had to see a clearly tortured Peeta on screen last night, that I'm not the only one suffering.

"Are you okay, Finnick?" she asks, then laughs hard, because I think that both of us know that it's going to be a long time before either of us are ever okay again.

"Fine," I answer anyway, and then Katniss is leading us off into the forest before I get the chance to say anything else.

We wander around for a while until Katniss motions for me to ditch the communicators that they made us wear. I have a feeling that she wants to talk about seeing Peeta last night, so I listen to her and ditch mine underneath a bush.

Once we're a safe distance away, she asks me if anyone has mentioned it, even though I think she should know. I'm classified as mentally ill. Nobody is going to tell crazy Finnick anything that might get him upset.

"I haven't heard one word about it," I answer. "No one's told you anything?" She shakes her head, and I pause a moment before asking, "Not even Gale?"

A betrayed look flashes through her eyes, and I know that answer before she even shakes her head. I don't blame her for being upset. Her Gale is like my Annie, whether she truly loves him or not. They grew up together, told each other everything, where there for the other when no one else was.

Except now that's not so true anymore, not for either of us. Annie is gone, maybe forever, and Gale seems to care more about the war than Katniss.

"Maybe he's trying to find a time to tell you privately," I try.

"Maybe," she says, but neither of us believe it.

We're quiet for a long time after that, and I lean back against the trunk of a tree and close my eyes. Out here, away from the gray walls and suffocating atmosphere, I can almost hope. The beauty of everything reminds me that maybe the world isn't such a terrible place after all, that good things can and do happen. That maybe I _will _get Annie back, something I haven't dared to think for a very, very long time.

I peel my eyes open and stifle a sigh. District 13 isn't a place for hope. Even if it was, I should still be smart enough not to. I know for a fact that hoping does nothing but set you up for disappointment.

My eyes find Katniss, take in the bags under her eyes, the paleness of her usually dark skin, the way that she looks so small and weak. No, this definitely isn't a place for hope. It's a place for lies, deceit, a place where people are soldiers and nothing more, and a place where personal feelings and single lives are sacrificed for the 'greater good'.

A part of me almost wants to run away. To grab my trident from special defense, and then run. I could survive, I know I could. Away from hope and worries and everything else. And maybe, maybe if I was away from people, my brain would turn off like it does in the arena. Maybe I could shut off all human feelings, become a machine, forget about Annie, and pain, and the stupid war.

Except I can't. Because forgetting about Annie would be impossible, and the moment that she loses her use as bait, she would be dead.

The twang of a bow pulls me out of my thoughts, and I open my eyes to see that Katniss has shot an enormous buck. I volunteer to take it back to the fence, and we leave the small clearing and return to the underground complex that makes up District 13.

Katniss heads off one way, and I start to amble towards Special Defense when Fulvia comes running at me from around the corner.

"Coin told me that you agreed to do the _We Remember _propos," she chirps, grabbing my arm and starting to drag me away. I stop and tear away.

"So what if I did?"

She smiles at me gently, but I see her eyes flash to my bracelet warily. Why is it that the people I want to take me seriously seem to think that I'm completely nuts, but the people who I would love to disregard me don't seem to notice that I should be hospitalized?

"Well, we're going to start," she says. "I apologize, but you'll have to use Katniss's prep team. They're all very friendly, though. I'm sure that you'll love them."

One prep team or the other, I really don't care. I don't want a prep team in the first place, anyway.

"I'm sure that I will," I say, "but do I have to go now? I just agreed to it yesterday."

Fulvia laughs, like it's the funniest thing she's heard in a long time.

"It's a war, Finnick. Time is of the essence," she chirps, then grabs my arm and starts dragging me off again.

I sigh and follow her away, praying that this isn't going to be too painful.

…

"Rue was only twelve years old when she was murdered, her life ripped away from her by the cruelest of circumstances. You have only to think of this young girl's premature and wholly unnecessary death to remember _why _we must continue to fight. She will never be forgotten," I finish gravely, closing my eyes against tears that are threatening.

When I open them again, I see that there isn't a person in the room who is unaffected. Even Plutarch is turned away with a pained expression on his face.

I take a deep breath and step off of the stage.

"That was marvelous," Fulvia says, dabbing her eyes with a silk handkerchief.

I could think of other words to describe what is supposed to be a memorial to a dead girl, but I only nod and ask if I have to make anymore. I've already filmed several, including ones for Wiress, Cecelia, Mags, Chaff, and Thresh. I don't think that I can stand anymore.

"Well, I was thinking we could make one for-" she starts, but Plutarch clears his throat to interrupt her.

"No, no. What we have right now will do quite well, I am sure," he says, shooting me a look. He wants me to be thankful, but I'm not going to be thankful to him until he gets Annie for me. "You may go now, Finnick."

I think about arguing and asking to do more, but that would be stupid and childish, and I'm pretty sure that he already thinks I'm childish enough. With a harsh look in his direction, I leave the set and wander in the general direction of my new quarters, the faces of the dead flashing through my mind.

**A/N- **

**Okay, I have officially 42 chapters of this written, and I think there are maybe 3-5 chapters left, if even, before I finish the story, so I'll probably start updating about every day or two since the end of the story is so easy to write. Once I do finally get the entire thing done, which should be hopefully be within the next 5-10 days, I'll post two chapters a day until the end of the story. **

**Yes, I'm rushing slightly, but school starts up in two and a half weeks, and I really want this done before then so I don't have to worry about updates and homework. If chapters do start seeming sloppy, which I'm trying not to do, please just comment about it and I'll double-check it for grammar mistakes or whatever. **

**Thanks, and I'll post another chapter tomorrow or Tuesday. **

**And to solid as a cloud, I live like an hour and a half away from Bismark, right along the ND/SD border. So basically as far as possible from absolutely everywhere. **


	31. Blood

I'm heading down to Special Defense two days later when Fulvia apprehends me and starts crowing that Beetee is busy. He's found a way to interrupt the Capitol's live feed. Apparently Snow is making a special television appearance tonight, and Beetee thinks he will be able to stick a few short clips into the feed.

I probably would be happy if I wasn't almost positive of the reason that Snow would bother making an appearance. He's not the type to rally his troops or honor the casualties. If he's going to show up on television, it's because he wants to hit the rebels hard, and to do that, it means that he's going to hit Katniss hard. Meaning that I'm almost positive this is going to have something to do with Peeta.

"Do you know what it's about?" I ask her. She shakes her head.

"No. I can't imagine that it would be anything other than a short speech. It starts in a few minutes, so why don't we go see? There is going to be a showing of it in Command, and I am sure you are invited."

Then she starts clicking down the hallway in her heels as if she expects me to follow her. I jog after her and trail her the rest of the way to Command before sitting myself in an open seat, my eyes scanning all of the whispering people who were crowded into the room.

Coin sits quietly in the back, hardly noticeable unless you're looking for her. Haymitch is in his own corner, looking nervous and sick. I take it that he thinks Peeta is going to make another appearance, and I can't imagine that he dealt with the last one all that well in the first place. Gale is there, too, also sitting out of the way and looking like hell. Katniss must have confronted him about Peeta.

My eyes keep going, eventually settling on Katniss herself, who enters the room with the big soldier who's been following her around lately. I wave her over to a seat beside me, and she looks around confusedly.

"What's going on? Aren't we seeing the Twelve propos?" she asks.

"Oh, no," Plutarch says from her other side. "I mean, possibly. I don't know exactly what footage Beetee plans to use."

"Beetee thinks he's found a way to break into the feed nationwide," I explain. "So that our propos will air in the Capitol, too. He's down working on it in Special Defense now. There's live programming tonight. Snow's making an appearance or something." The Capitol seal appears on the screen, and I add, "I think it's starting."

Snow's snake-like eyes appear on the screen moments later, and I shiver as his too friendly, too smooth voice greets the nation with a false gravity that makes me clench my fists. Then the camera pulls back, and, like I expected, Peeta is sitting off to the side, a map of Panem behind him.

The foot of his fake leg is tapping irregularly, beads of sweat are forming on his forehead, and his eyes are angry and unfocused, insane. Almost like a rabid dog.

"He's worse," Katniss whispers desperately, and suddenly I'm watching Annie in her post-Games interviews, knowing that she had gone through enough to start losing her mind, and not being able to do anything about it. I know exactly what Katniss is going through. My hands find her's, and her fingers tighten around mine like she's hanging on for her life.

Peeta starts talking, his voice frustrated, but with undertones of something else, something that scares me. It's the same thing that I hear in Annie's voice sometimes, that I heard in Annie's voice, a kind of lost desperation. Again, I worry that they're torturing him into insanity.

He continues speaking about the need for a cease-fire, highlighting the damage that the districts are suffering. As he speaks, pictures of the destruction flash behind him. A broken dam in 7. Toxic waste pooling underneath a derailed train. Granaries collapsing in a fire. And he blames the rebels for all of them.

With every word he speaks against the rebels, I grow more and more convinced that they're doing something to him that will be impossible to fix. He can't be in his right mind if he's saying those things. I've seen the way he looks at Katniss, the same way that I look at Annie, and I know that I would never, ever hurt her like I can feel Peeta's words hurting Katniss now.

I'm debating whether or not to tell Katniss to get out of there when Beetee interrupts the feed and a picture of Katniss is on the television, standing in a destroyed building. I look more closely and see a brick fireplace and several ovens still standing, and that's when I realize that it's a bakery. Peeta's home.

Plutarch jumps to his feet, despite how wildly inappropriate it is at that moment, cheering, "He did it! Beetee broke in!"

That sends the entire room buzzing with reaction until Peeta comes back, distracted. Only distracted. After seeing his home destroyed, after receiving a near confirmation that his family is dead. I glance over at Katniss as Peeta plows forward through his speech, but she's focusing too hard on Peeta's physical condition to realize just how wrong he's acting mentally. But I've spent enough time with Annie, I've lived through enough myself, to know that it's the mental things that can really do damage.

Then Peeta's gone again, and I'm on screen, talking about Rue, a picture of the little girl in Katniss's arms, surrounded by flowers.

After that, the entire thing breaks down into a battle of sorts. No one gets screen time for more then five or ten seconds, but Beetee expected that. He has choice shots cut out of the propos, segments of my sorrow-filled voice discussing dead tributes, Katniss and Gale, a few short words from a song- _Are you, are you, Coming to the tree? Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free?- _in the most beautiful voice I've ever heard, and clips of a burning hospital, a destroyed District 12, all mixed in with Peeta's horror, confusion, and betrayal, Snow's angry face.

Plutarch is basically dancing around the room, and almost everyone else is cheering out loud for Beetee, but I stay still and silent at Katniss's side.

The betrayal on Peeta's face is clearly hitting her hard, and the anger on Snow's is making me sick. I knew what he'd do to Annie if I did the other propo, the one that Coin really wanted me to do, but what if even just appearing for the rebellion is bad enough? What if Snow decides to kill Annie now? Annie and Peeta both?

This is definitely no cause for celebrating, and I'm about two seconds away from yelling at everyone to shut up when the Capitol's seal is back up, accompanied by a droning audio tone. This lasts for half a minute before Snow and Peeta are on again.

Behind them, the set is in turmoil. We can hear their directors exchanging frantic comments, but Snow continues forward over them, saying that the rebels are clearly attempting to stop the 'dissemination of information they find incriminating, but both truth and justice will reign'. Then he adds that the broadcast will resume when security has been reinstated.

At the last moment, he turns it over to Peeta, asking if he has any parting thoughts for Katniss Everdeen.

My eyes flash to Katniss and take in her desperate eyes, the way that she's soaking up every word of it as if her life depended on it, and I pray that he doesn't say anything that will hurt her.

"Katniss…" Peeta starts. His face is twisted in effort. He's having some kind of internal struggle. "How do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you… in Thirteen.." He inhales sharply, almost like he's fighting for air, like saying what he wants is a physical effort. Finally he gets the strength, his eyes rolling back into his head and his words coming out in a rough gasp, "Dead by morning!"

Somewhere off camera, Snow bellows, "End it!"

Instead of the screen going black, Beetee flashes a still shot of Katniss in front of the hospital at Eight in three-second intervals, but between the images, it shows what going on at the set in the Capitol. Peeta is trying to keep speaking, to say something else. The camera is knocked down and starts recording the white tiled floor, but we can still hear the scuffle of boots. Then there's the sound of a blow, followed immediately by Peeta's cry of pain.

A moment later I can see his blood, splattering across the tiles.


	32. Bombs

The room is immediately in an uproar, but I keep my place beside Katniss as her fingernails dig into my skin hard enough to draw blood. It looks like she's choking beside me, unable to breathe or scream, her eyes unfocused and bleary.

Around us I hear people repeating his words, asking what they mean, why he said them, but no one even mentions the hit and the blood, what the messenger went through to deliver a warning with a very obvious meaning.

I feel dizzy and sick, and I start wondering if that electric shock in the arena really didn't damage something in my head because it feels like it's about two seconds from exploding.

Then a gruff voice shouts, "Shut up!" above all of the others, and everyone goes quiet. My eyes focus on Haymitch, standing up in the back of the room, his face red with anger and his eyes brimming with a worry that I've never seen in him before. "It's not some big mystery! The boy's telling us we're about to be attacked. Here. In Thirteen."

"How would he have that information?"

"Why should we trust him?"

"How do you know?"

Haymitch growls in frustration.

"They're beating him bloody while we speak. What more do you need? Katniss, help me out here!"

I turn to Katniss, take in her pale face and her teary eyes, and wonder if she's able to speak at all, but she shakes her head fiercely and determination shines in her eyes.

"Haymitch's right. I don't know where Peeta got the information. Or if it's true. But he believes it is. And they're-"

She gulps away her last words, unable to say where they're doing to him for giving away the warning, that, for whatever reason, they didn't expect him to give. I tighten my grip on Katniss's hand, but I don't think she even notices.

"You don't know him," Haymitch says, addressing Coin. "We do. Get your people ready."

The president looks at him for a couple of seconds, not alarmed, but more puzzled, like she isn't quite sure how things changed so quickly.

For a few more moments she seems to chew on his words, then says, her voice perfectly even, "Of course, we have prepared for such a scenario. Although we have decades of support for the assumption that further direct attacks on Thirteen would be counterproductive to the Capitol's cause. Nuclear missiles would release radiation into the atmosphere, with incalculable environmental results. Even routine bombing could badly damage our military compound, which we know they hope to regain. And, of course, they invite a counterstrike. It is conceivable that, given our current alliance with the rebels, those would be viewed as acceptable risks."

"You think so?" says Haymitch, his voice overly sincere, almost like a small child's when they're asking their parents if Santa Clause really exists. Coin doesn't even notice.

"I do. At any rate, we're overdue for a Level Five security drill. Let's proceed with the lockdown."

I release a relieved breath as she begins to type rapid instructions on her keyboard to authorize her decision.

Almost immediately, an impossibly loud, piercing siren rings through the air loudly enough that I'm pretty sure the Capitol can hear it, let alone everyone in District 13. The soldier that follows Katniss around grabs her and starts guiding her out of command, and I quickly follow after them, having no idea what else to do.

We go along the hall to a doorway, and then onto a wide stairway. Streams of people join us, crowding the place so thickly that I'm worried someone is going to fall and get trampled.

But this is District 13, not District 4, and the people are trained for this. Everyone moves at a regulated, perfectly reasonable pace, not trying to push ahead or go any faster than they need to. We descend flight after flight of stairs, melting in with the hordes of people.

A part of me wants to talk, to ask Katniss if she's okay, or to try to provide some kind of comfort, but I keep my mouth shut because the siren is too loud for me to even hear my own thoughts, let alone any words that I would say.

We keep going down. Further and further, far enough that even the shrill sound of the sirens turn into little more than an echoing in our ears. The steady stream of people begin to break off into groups, and still we keep going down.

The stairs finally end at the edge of an enormous cavern. Katniss and I both start forward, but the soldier stops us and makes us wave our arms in front of a scanner, no doubt to make sure that they aren't missing anyone.

Then we step into the room.

It's bigger than the training complex at the Games, with sleeping bunks hewn into almost all of the available wall space. There are bathrooms, a kitchen, a small area that looks almost like a hospital. It looks like the place was built for people to _live _in.

I resist the urge to groan when I contemplate just how long we may be here.

White signs with letters or numbers are placed at intervals around the cavern, and I'm instructed to report to the area that matches my assigned quarters.

Compartment 9, then.

I hesitate, planning on waiting for Katniss, but then I see Plutarch strolling over to us and dart over to where the white sign reads '9', really not wanting to tempt him to speak to me.

My living space for the next who knows how long consists of a painted square that can't be more then twelve feet long. There is a single bunk carved into the wall, a space for storing things underneath, and a white piece of paper, coated in plastic, that reads _BUNKER PROTOCOL. _

I take the sheet off of the wall and sit on the edge of the stone bunk to read it, my thoughts still swarming from the sudden turn of events, Peeta's blood, Snow's angry face.

Is this going to do anything to Annie? Will she even know? She won't look betrayed like Peeta, will she? Peeta wasn't in his right mind, of course she won't be.

Then again, Annie really isn't in her right mind either.

I shake the thought off. Peeta was losing it, and not like Annie did, but worse. Much worse. And they won't be torturing Annie as badly as they are Peeta because they're only torturing Peeta to hurt Katniss, and torturing Annie can't hurt me when they don't show her on any of their broadcasts, and Snow probably knows that I'm already halfway broken anyway, so it'd be a waste of time to hurt Annie.

I let out a deep breath. That logic is shaky at best.

For a moment I'm tempted to grab my rope from my pocket and start tying knots, but then I remember the paper in my hand.

I start reading, putting all of my focus on the words so that I can't think of anything else.

**On Arrival **

**1. Make sure all members of your Compartment are accounted for.**

I have no one else. There is no need for me to worry about that.

**2. Go to the Supply Station and secure one pack for each member of your Compartment. Ready your Living Area. Return pack(s). **

My eyes look over the cavern until I find the Supply Station, a big room that's situated in a corner with a couple of people waiting in line.

I walk over, give one of the workers my compartment number, and ask for my pack. He checks a sheet, pulls a pack from one of dozens of shelves, and slides it across the counter. I toss it over my shoulder and head back to my Compartment.

Part of me wants to start messing around with my rope again, but I have a feeling that I'm going to be using it a lot over the next few days, so I choose to sift through my pack instead.

I'm reminded of the first afternoon of my first Games, sorting through all of my spoils with Arowana. The contents of the pack aren't much more than what the Gamemakers would provide, anyway. A thin mattress, bedding, two sets of gray clothing, a toothbrush, a comb, and a flashlight.

I think I would've been happier with the selection in the Games. At least then I could have got weapons. And decent food. I ate better during both of my trips to the arena than I do here.

After double-checking to make sure that I didn't miss anything, I make my bed, toss everything else back into the storage cube, and leave the backpack on the floor in the general area of the Supply Station since the line has grown so long that I'm not going to bother waiting.

Then I sit on my bed and watch as people continue to flood into the room from various areas, whispering, worried, and confused.

They look lost. Scared. Some of them are trying not to show it, but I can tell. Like Annie no doubt is. Was.

I close my eyes and imagine her watching the Games on tv, frantically pacing when the arena blows up. Her parents would probably be there, trying to comfort her. Then someone would knock on the door. Her father would almost certainly answer. A peacekeeper would shoot him, then her mother. And Annie would start screaming, would try to hide, but he would find her, take her away, and-

My fingers close around the rope in my pocket and I tuck myself into the corner of my bunk, focusing all of my attention on tying knots.

Up. Right. Left. Through. Twist. Down. Pull.

Through. Loop. Twist. Up. Left. Under. Pull.

Across. Under. Up. Twist. Down. Left. Right. Pull.

There's a strange lack of noise, but I continue tying my knots anyway.

Down. Up. Right. Through-

"I would like to thank you all for your exemplary evacuation of the upper levels."

My fingers stall, and I close my eyes as I listen to Coin's voice ringing over the intercom, telling us that this is not a drill. Peeta Mellark, the District 12 victor, has 'possibly' made a televised reference to an attack on 13 tonight.

Her voice fades away, and I begin to return to my knots when the first bomb hits. First it's only a small vibration, barely enough to notice, but it soon explodes into a full on explosion that seems to shake the cavern. Suddenly the deep bunker doesn't seem very safe, and I can see the ceiling crumbling and falling, can feel myself being crushed underneath the weight of tons of rocks, not able to be helped…

Then the shaking stops and the lights go out.

I take a deep breath, remind myself that if they didn't think this was going to make a difference, we wouldn't have been evacuated here in the first place, and try to ignore the screaming and whimpers that are finding their way out of the darkness.

The hum of a generator cuts through the whining, and soon the lights are back on, dimmer than before, but enough that the majority of the citizens can compose themselves.

After a few moments of shaky silence, Coin's voice fills the bunker once again.

"Apparently, Peeta Mellark's information was sound and we owe him a great debt of gratitude. Sensors indicate the first missile was not nuclear, but very powerful. We expect more will follow. For the duration of the attack, citizens are to stay in their assigned areas unless otherwise notified."

I go back to tying my knots, focusing on the rope instead of the fear of being crushed to death, instead of thinking about Peeta and him getting tortured and worries that the same thing is going to happen to Annie, instead of letting myself fall apart again like it feels that I'm in danger of doing.

Someone tells me that I'm allowed to brush my teeth, and I quickly do so, my eyes focused on the roof of the bunker the entire time, waiting for another bomb to hit, for the ground to shake, for the entire thing to cave in.

I chide myself for being stupid again, but I can't help it. I've lived in open spaces my entire life, and being so deep underground doesn't feel safe.

As soon as I'm back in my compartment, I return to my rope, tying more and more knots until I fall asleep.

**A/N- **

**Wow, I gotreally good reviews on the last chapter. So thanks a whole bunch to crescentrose22, Daydreaming Viking Girl, RueofDistrict11, Blue Dot77, and cindella204. **

**Not much else to say except that I'm almost done with the story, so I'll keep upddating daily or twice daily. **

**~bballgirl32~**


	33. Roses

The next three days pass uneventfully. I sit in my bed and tie knots until I get restless enough that I pace around the bunker for however long it takes for me to calm down again.

Four more missiles strike, but I stop panicking after the first two. If the Capitol wanted to destroy 13, they wouldn't space the bombings out so much, and the bombs that they did send would have been more deadly. My guess is that the propos have sent people into enough of a frenzy that Snow is trying to temporarily keep Beetee off air.

As I tie my knots that third night, I vaguely wonder how many bombs he has to waste. The air down here is starting to get a stale, sickly smell, and I'm starting to question how many times air can be recycled before it's no longer breathable.

Then I feel someone else climbing into my bed with me, and I tense up, holding my rope out like a weapon. My eyes settle on Katniss and I relax, even as I'm wondering what she's doing in my bed, and why she looks so terrible.

"I know what Snow is trying to do with Peeta," she says desperately. "They're only keeping him alive because Snow knows that hurting him hurts me. He's trying to break me."

My head jerks up to look at her. I wasn't expecting that. Of course, I've known that he was doing that with Peeta for a very long time. It's exactly what he is doing with Annie. After knowing Snow for so many years, a person kind of gets an idea about how he operates.

Realization dawns on Katniss's face as she sees the look in my eyes.

"This is what they're doing to you with Annie, isn't it?"

I swallow hard at her name. I don't want to talk about this, but kicking Katniss away would be worse. I've already broken, and I know for a fact how hard it is to pull yourself back together. Right now, I can see Katniss tearing apart at the seams, and I know I have to help her before it gets any worse.

Besides, Plutarch would be pissed off if he had a broken Mockingjay.

"Well, they didn't arrest her because they thought she'd be a wealth of rebel information," I say emotionlessly, knowing that if I show any emotion at all, I'll break down completely. "They know I'd never have risked telling her anything like that. For her own protection."

"Oh, Finnick. I'm so sorry," she says. I shake my head, not wanting, not deserving her apologies.

"No, I'm sorry. That I didn't warn you somehow."

"You did warn me, though," she argues. "On the hovercraft. Only when you said they'd use Peeta against me, I thought you meant like bait. To lure me into the Capitol somehow."

I close my eyes as I remember my hasty, blurted words.

_They'll figure out he doesn't know anything pretty fast. And they won't kill him if they think they can use him against you. _

"I shouldn't have said even that. It was too late for it to be of any help to you. Since I hadn't warned you before the Quarter Quell, I should've shut up about how Snow operates."

I absentmindedly yank the end of my rope, and my knot comes undone. After a slight pause to collect my thoughts, I continue, "It's just that I didn't understand when I met you. After your first Games, I thought the whole romance was an act on your part. We all expected you'd continue that strategy. But it wasn't until Peeta hit the force field and nearly died that I-"

I hesitate, think of private looks exchanged by Katniss and Gale, remember one of the images that Beetee stuck into one of his short clips. The two of them sitting side by side, close enough to touch, her leaning her head on his shoulder as he spoke. They may be fighting now, but if they have a… thing, I probably shouldn't start talking about how much I can tell Katniss loves Peeta. Hell, she probably doesn't even know herself.

"That you what?" she presses. I study her for a long moment before I decide to tell her. If she doesn't like it, she'll deny it. I know Katniss well enough to realize that if she doesn't think she's in love with Peeta, she isn't going to believe it just because I say she is.

"That I knew I'd misjudged you. That you do love him." I see the look on her face and gently add, "I'm not saying in what way. Maybe you don't know yourself. But anyone paying attention could see how much you care about him."

She goes silent for a moment and I watch her carefully, see how her body goes tense and her head lowers, watch her admit that what I just said was true. There's a long silence where she chews that over, and my thoughts dart back to Annie, the Capitol, what they're doing to her, and I quickly grab my rope again, not looking up until she asks, "How do you bear it?"

I look at her incredulously.

How do I bear it? Bear it? Is she blind? I've spent months in the hospital, weeks unable to have a conversation without breaking down over Annie, and I still can't sit still without having my rope in my hands.

"I don't, Katniss! Obviously, I don't," I say, my voice breaking as I admit just how defeated I am. "I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking."

Horror, worry, fear, all dance across her features, and I quickly stop myself before I scare her anymore.

"Better not to give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart."

She takes a deep breath, and I can see her face contorting with effort, almost like she's willing herself to stay together, but her features don't relax, and her face still hasn't regained any of its usual color.

I look down at my rope and bite my lip nervously, then remind myself that I've been dealing with this for a long time, that I should have some strength built up. Katniss just figured it out, and she's not used to bearing the weight of knowing that someone she loves is being hurt solely because of her.

"The more you can distract yourself, the better," I advise slowly, unsurely, still not wanting to let go of my rope. "First thing tomorrow, we'll get you your own rope. Until then, take mine."

She grabs it eagerly from my fingers, then heads back to her own bed, leaving me with swarming thoughts that I'd been working so hard to keep buried, and no rope to help me with them.

I toss and turn the entire night, not getting a wink of sleep. When Katniss, who looks like she got just as much sleep as I did, returns my rope, I take it eagerly and resume tying my knots.

It's not an hour later that Coin announces we can leave the bunker. Our old quarters have been destroyed by the bombings, and we are supposed to follow exact directions to our new compartments.

I clean out my space and eagerly start for the door, as per Coin's directions, but the big soldier, whose name I've figured out is Boggs, signals for Gale, Katniss, and me to go with him.

I'm confused, but for some reason I can't place, something tells me that I'm not going to want to miss this. I quickly follow him out of the crowds of people and up the sets and sets of stairs. No one says anything as we get in an elevator that takes us to Special Defense, but I think that's because everyone is exhausted after living three mostly sleepless days undergound.

Boggs waves us into a room filled with beeping computers and a big table that looks almost exactly like Command. Coin, Haymitch, Plutarch, and several other people I don't recognize are crowded around the table, all looking just as tired as everyone else.

I yawn exhaustedly and wonder how in the world the Capitol people are still functioning when I see coffee cups in everyone's hands. My eyes meet Plutarch's, and he wraps his hands tightly around his cup, as if he's worried that I'm going to try to steal it at any moment.

"We need all four of you suited up and aboveground," Coin says without introduction. "You have two hours to get footage showing the damage from the bombing, establish that Thirteen's military unit remains not only functional, but dominant, and, most important, that the Mockingjay is still alive. Any questions?"

"Can we have a coffee?" I ask.

Plutarch immediately gestures for streaming cups to be handed out, and I add enough cream to it to completely take away the bitter taste.

Katniss is looking at her cup distastefully beside me, and I slosh some cream in her own cup before reaching into the bowl to grab a few sugar cubes. A memory of my first conversation with the Mockingjay resurfaces, and for a moment it's like she's still painted with makeup, terrifying and beautiful, and my heart is still brimming with the excitement that came with the starting rebellion.

With a smirk, a purr, "Want a sugar cube?"

Katniss smiles, one of the first real smiles I've ever seen on her, and it actually makes me smile back.

"Here, it does improve the taste," I say in my actual voice, plunking a few cubes into her cup.

"Thanks," she offers with another smile, then leaves to go suit up. I'm rushed away by several of Coin's people moments later, and after I'm made up and stuck in decent clothes, they take me back to the main group, and we begin the ascent to the surface.

I keep yawning throughout our entire climb, the coffee doing very little to help. Not only that, but I'm starting to worry about what's going to happen to Annie if I keep doing this. Peeta's betrayed face flashes through my head, except his face changes, morphing into hers before I can help it, and I can see her crying out as she's punished for what I do.

I'm just about to turn around and run back when Boggs opens a trap door and fresh air rushes in. I take in enormous gulps of it, allowing myself to breathe deeply for the first time since we were stuck in the bunker.

We climb out of the trap door and into the woods, then continue on through the forest. As we go, debris starts littering the floor, and we arrive at the first crater within minutes. It's at least thirty yards wide, and deep enough that I can't see the bottom. Boggs comments that anyone on the first ten levels would have been killed.

"Can you rebuild it?" Gale asks as we skirt our way around the pit.

"Not anytime soon. That one didn't get much. A few backup generators and a poultry farm. We'll just seal it off," he says, then waves for us to continue.

Eventually the trees disappear into the space that would have had to have been directly over the district. It's riddled with craters, old and new rubble mixed together. The sight of it makes my hands shake.

"How much of an edge did the boy's warning give you?" asks Haymitch.

"About ten minutes before our own systems would've detected the missiles," says Boggs.

"But it did help, right?" asks Katniss desperately. I listen, too, scared that what Peeta did would be a waste, scared of what it would do to Katniss if it was a waste.

"Absolutely," says Boggs, and I release a breath that I didn't know I'd been holding. "Civilian evacuation was completed. Seconds count when you're under attack. Ten minutes meant lives saved.

Katniss nods in relief, and we continue on. Eventually one of the camera people, Cressida, I think her name is, stops and suggests filming in front of the old Justice Building as a joke since the Capitol has been using it as a backdrop for false news broadcasts for years to show us that the district has been completely destroyed.

As we approach what used to be the main door, Gale freezes and points to something, and everyone stops nervously. After scanning the area for a few moments, I notice the pink and red roses strewn across the ground. The smell reaches me a second later, and I know that these are Snow's special roses, the ones that he grows with a special perfume to cover the scent of his bloody mouth.

"Don't touch them! They're for me!" Katniss shouts. Everyone looks at her strangely, but I can see the meaning behind the roses even before Katniss struggles to explain their significance. They're reminders to her, from Snow, showing her that even here, she still isn't out of his reach.

Some of the others step forward to inspect them, but they aren't going to find anything. Plutarch and I stay back with Katniss, knowing how Snow works, that he's using them to destroy her mentally, not to cause any physical harm.

A crew in hazard suits soon appears to cart the roses away, and Cressida starts ordering people into place, as if just because the roses are gone, their effect will be forgotten.

Katniss very clearly doesn't forget. My eyes don't leave her as she lets herself get ordered into place, and she looks like she's going to be sick. She's shaking, breathless, and her eyes are halfway shut against the light, as if she can't stand how bright everything is.

"So, what exactly do you need from me again?" she asks detatchedly.

She was already worried about what Snow would do to Peeta for this, and the roses were just another reminder that he is watching her, that Peeta will suffer from what she does.

Suddenly, I can smell the sickly sweet roses again, and I have to wonder if that warning was just for Katniss, or if it wasn't for me, as well, if Snow wasn't telling me off for narrating those propos, which had appeared harmless to me when I first agreed to do them.

My hands start sweating, and I want to get away from the cameras. I want to run. This is hurting Annie.

"Just a few quick lines that show you're alive and still fighting," Cressida offers.

Katniss takes a shaky breath and says, "Okay."

Then she takes her position and looks at the camera, and I wait for her to say something that will inspire me, that will take away all of the doubt and terror I'm feeling right now, that will show me that Annie isn't really in danger at all.

Except she doesn't say anything, and after several seconds, says, "I'm sorry, I've got nothing."

I groan and start pacing back and forth as Cressida goes to try and comfort Katniss. Eventually everything seems settled, Cressida backs up to start taping, and Katniss shifts around nervously, crosses her arms in what I'm guessing is an attempt to stop their shaking.

Her eyes find mine, and I give her a thumbs up, but it's shaky at best, and I don't think that it helps at all.

"So, Katniss. You've survived the Capitol bombing of Thirteen. How did it compare with what you experienced on the ground in Eight?"

"We were so far underground this time, there was no real danger. Thirteen's alive and well and so am-" her voice cuts off in a strange croaking noise.

I run my hands desperately through my hair, not caring that it was just styled. She's making me more nervous and skeptical than I already am. I want to leave, but I can't leave Katniss alone, and then I'd probably get stuck back in the hospital and wind up losing any credibility I've managed to scrape together over the past couple of weeks.

"Try the line again," says Cressida. "Thirteen's alive and well and so am I."

She takes a deep breath.

"Thirteen's alive and so-"

She stops and shakes her head. I can see her breaking, can see the little cracks starting to run up and down her brain just like they did with me when I learned that Snow had Annie.

"Katniss, just this one line and you're done today. I promise," says Cressida. "Thirteen's alive and well and so am I."

She swings her arms in an attempt to loosen herself up, then fidgets for a long time, growing more and more red until I'm sure that she's going to burst, and then she completely breaks down and starts sobbing.

I start backing away, not wanting to be near her, knowing that I'm only seconds away from doing the same thing myself.

"Cut," Cressida says quietly.

"What's wrong with her?" Plutarch says under his breath.

"She's figured out how Snow's using Peeta," I mutter. And she's doing the right thing, and not doing the propos, and keeping Peeta safe, just like I should be doing.

I keep detaching myself from the group, trying not to watch as Katniss calls out for Haymitch, as she starts making these horrible noises like a dying animal's.

Then they come and inject her with sedative, except it looks like she's dead, and I can't help but think that Annie's going to be dead, too, and then someone is cussing and yelling to get Finnick, and I don't realize that I'm screaming until Gale is in front of me, desperately telling me to calm down, his eyes going wildly from to me where Katniss is being dragged away.

A needle pierces my arm, and then everything goes black.


	34. Reunion

"Finnick, Finnick, wake up!"

I groan and roll over in my bed, gripping onto my pillow more tightly. It feels too early. My head still hurts. And it stinks like ammonia. It stinks…

Shit. I'm back in the hospital. They'll never let me get Annie now, never-

"Finnick!"

Katniss. What's Katniss doing in a hospital?

I close my eyes and try to think, then remember. The failed shoot. Screaming. Sobbing. Being sedated.

My eyes jerk open, and I see her standing over me, her face twisted in a kind of extreme desperation.

"What's going on?" I ask, the expression on her face waking me up immediately.

"They're going to the Capitol," she says, and before I can even really get what she's saying, she continues, "They need me to be the Mockingjay, and they're doing anything possible to make me cooperate, so now Boggs is leading a mission to the Capitol to get Peeta, and Annie, but Gale is going, and they're going to get caught, and both of them are going to be dead, and I can't do anything about it because they're already left."

"Wait," I say, forcing her to stop, letting her words echo through my ears.

Going to the Capitol.

Get Annie.

Get Annie.

Get. Annie.

"What's wrong, Katniss? They're getting them. Peeta's coming back. Annie is coming back," I say, hardly able to keep the joy out of my voice.

"But what if they fail?" she asks miserably. "What if they all die?"

I close my eyes as the possibility hits me in the gut like a jackhammer.

Soon, very soon, Annie could be dead. Dead.

But isn't dead better than her being in Snow's clutches? And then I could lead myself on a suicide mission to kill Snow without worrying about how it'd effect her!

"Don't you see, Katniss, this will decide things. One way or the other. By the end of the day, they'll either be dead or with us. It's… it's more than we could hope for!" I say cheerfully, the suffocating miserable feeling that's been haunting me since the Games evaporating into anticipation.

Today could either be the start of everything I've ever hoped for, or it could be the beginning of Snow's downfall. Either way, it's better than not knowing.

Then the curtain around my bed yanks back and Haymitch is standing there, and his grave face reminds me that sometimes things aren't quite so easy. I take a couple of breaths to get myself back down to earth, but I'm not sure I quite manage it.

Annie could be coming home. By tomorrow, she could be in my arms. The thought keeps bouncing around my head like a rubber ball.

"Plutarch has a job for you," he says gruffly. "Something that will help the mission."

I raise my head questioningly, and then he says that they still need post-bombing footage of 13. "If we can get it in the next few hours, Beetee can air it leading up to the rescue, and maybe keep the Capitol's attention elsewhere."

Even better. Something to increase Annie's chance of survival.

"Yes, a distraction," I say. "A decoy of sorts."

"What we really need is something so riveting that even President Snow won't be able to tear himself away. Got anything like that?" asks Haymitch, and when I jerk my head up at him, he looks away.

My terrible secret, the one that hardly anyone knows, starts burning against my chest. The one thing that I don't want anyone to know, that I'd like nothing more than to forget and never mention again, is now at the front of my mind. I can almost spell expensive Capitol perfumes and feel cold fingers running over my chest, whispered words breathed into my ear…

My eyes close on their own accord, and I feel like I'm going to be sick. When I open them again, Katniss is gone, no doubt to start her prepping, but Haymitch is there, watching me carefully.

"Don't tell anyone-" he starts. I shake my head. I need to do this. There's only one thing that will keep Snow's attention, and I know exactly what it is.

"I want to," I lie, knowing that I don't, but that I'm going to do it anyway.

Then, feeling slightly nauseous, I get up and go down to get prepped, feeling like a zombie as I sift through information and stories, as I try to think of the best way to say everything that I need to.

I'm just getting my hair finished when Coin bursts into the prep room.

"You said unconditionally," she says with no preamble. "Are you going to do it?"

I nod uncomfortably, trying not to think about how much like Snow she is in the way that she cares little about what people go through as long as they help her get what she wants.

"Good." Then she looks at the prep team. "Leave his hair. No makeup. Simple clothes. The real Finnick Odair is going to make his first appearance."

And then she's gone.

The prep team hurriedly undoes everything that they have done so far, then put me in a pair of black pants and a t-shirt. The closer it gets to being time to go, the more nauseous I get. I keep reminding myself that it's for Annie, that if all goes well, I'll see her again tonight, but even though that takes the edge of the nausea, it doesn't make it very much easier at all.

Once I'm dressed, I'm taken back out to the ruins of District 13. Katniss has already started, and I enter just as she's saying, "Not well. I know at any moment Snow could kill him. Especially since he warned Thirteen about the bombing. It's a terrible thing to live with. But because of what they're putting him through, I don't have any reservations anymore. About doing whatever it takes to destroy the Capitol. I'm finally free.

"President Snow once admitted to me that the Capitol was fragile. At the time, I didn't know what he meant. It was hard to see clearly because I was so afraid. Now I'm not. The Capitol's fragile because it depends on the districts for everything. Food, energy, even the Peacekeepers that police us. If we declare our freedom, the Capitol collapses. President Snow, thanks to you, I'm officially declaring mine today."

I start to clap, but Plutarch calls me and Haymitch over to him as soon as she's done. I hesitantly step towards them, already knowing what he's going to talk about.

"Finnick, you have to know what you can do," Plutarch says.

"No," argues Haymitch. "He shouldn't have to tell anyone. It's embarrassing and humiliating, and-"

"And would you please quite reminding me," I say with as much strength as I can. "I've already told Coin that I'm going to do it."

Plutarch appears to be satisfied, but Haymitch grabs my arm and shakes his head.

"Finnick. When you say this, _everyone _is going to know."

My fingers find the rope in my pocket, and my hands are absentmindedly tying knots within seconds.

"I know. I know," I mutter.

"It will help Annie," Plutarch presses. "Not to mention provide a spark that could help end this rebellion. Look what Katniss has already done. She's given you a perfect set up. Now you just have to use it."

"Think this through," Haymitch grunts unhappily.

"I've thought it through enough," I tell the ground. "Believe me."

"So you're going to do it?" asks Plutarch.

I nod.

"I'm going to do it. For Annie."

Then I leave before I can think it through any more, and take the seat in front of the camera that Katniss had just vacated.

Haymitch says, "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do. If it will help her." I tie my last knot and ball my rope up in my sweaty hands, my entire body numb with what I'm about to do. I take a deep breath. "I'm ready."

Then the cameras start rolling. For a moment I'm frozen, but I think of Annie and do my best to completely detach myself from what I have to say.

"President Snow used to…sell me… my body, that is," I begin, keeping my eyes focused resolutely on my hands. There are several gasps from the people watching, and I can feel their stares burning into me. I want to run, to hide, to go back down to the bunker and never come out again.

Then I see Annie's face in my mind and force myself to continue.

"I wasn't the only one. If a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. If you refuse, he kills someone you love. So you do it."

I pause for a moment, try to pretend that no one is hearing this, that this isn't going to be shown to all of Panem in a couple of hours.

"I wasn't the only one, but I was the most popular. And perhaps the most defenseless, because the people I loved were so defenseless. To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry, but I found a much more valuable form of payment."

My next pause is for dramatic effect before I say, "Secrets." Then, in an attempt to ensure the President's attention for as long as I can, I add, "And this is where you're going to want to stay tuned, President Snow, because so very many of them were about you. But let's begin with some of the others."

I start talking about prominent Capitol citizens, governors, Gamemakers, and relatives of Snow. I recount cheating wives, assassinations used to gain power, millions of dollars stolen or cheated away from unknowing friends or spouses, cases of arson, of incest, of rigged bets that ruined lives and made others. Things that a stupid little boy from the districts would never tell anyone, things that no one would believe if that stupid little boy did dare to say.

Things that now, are known to all of Panem.

Soon almost all of my secrets are gone, and only those about President Snow remain. For the first time since I started, I lift my eyes to the camera, imagining that I'm looking right into Snow's beady little snake eyes.

"And now, on to our good President Coriolanus Snow," I finally say, my voice stronger, my mortification at giving away my secret vanishing in the light of what I am about to do to the person who I hate more than any other. "Such a young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you must ask yourself, did he do it? One word. That's all you really need to know. _Poison._

"Thirty six years ago, Snow the twenty five year-old son of a Capitol nobody, managed to land a job that most Capitol citizens could only dream of after the man who was originally selected for the job dropped dead of a mysterious case of food poisoning. Of course, some suspected Snow, but there was no proof. And so started his rise to political infamy."

I continue on, working my way through his various jobs, pointing out case after case of suspicious deaths, of enemies and friends alike, who had grown to become potential threats.

I reveal how heart attacks, cases of bad food, or mysterious viruses were actually poisonings, of how Snow drank from the poisoned cups to deflect suspicion. And of how his antidotes didn't always work.

"They say that's why he wears roses that reek of perfume, to cover the scent of blood from the mouth sores that will never heal," I say as I think of the dozens of roses that were left for Katniss yesterday. For a moment I swear that I can almost smell the roses again.

I choke down my fear and quickly continue on, talk about the list that one of Snow's ex-wives said he kept, of who he's going to poison next.

It feels like hours before I'm finally finished, before I've revealed all of his poisonings, the fates of several ex-wives, what happened to numerous unfortunate Capitol businesses, and where Snow's father recently disappeared to.

When I'm finally done, the cameras continue rolling, the people running them long since done paying attention. I have to say "Cut", and even then, it's a few moments before they stop, and I'm allowed to leave.

Plutarch waves me over to him again, no doubt to discuss some of what I just said, and I follow after him because I don't have the strength left to argue. I feel dead, empty, like I have absolutely nothing more to give.

It isn't long before Plutarch seems to realize that I don't have any stories left, and he lets me go. I start wandering around, scared, nervous, terrified of what's going to happen to Annie, and keeping my eyes on the tiles because I don't want to catch the pitying looks that are thrown in my direction from the people who heard everything that I revealed.

Eventually I run into Katniss, who is wandering around just like I am. I duck my head, prepared for questions or 'I'm sorries', but she's been through enough to get that some things just shouldn't be mentioned, and she thankfully doesn't say anything at all.

We spend the rest of the day together. Messing around in Special Defense. Tying knots. I go down to the cafeteria for the first time since I got here, but neither of us eat. When we're done pushing our food around, we go out to the shooting range and use her explosive arrows to blow things up. I imagine that I'm shooting Snow in the head.

Then, at three o'clock, when the mission is supposed to start, Katniss and I stand tensely in the back of Beetee's room while him and his team attempt to break into the Capitol's broadcast.

First there's Katniss, saying a few short sentences, and then I'm on screen, at first fighting for time with the standard afternoon newscast, and then taking over almost completely. As I watch myself speak, recount horror after horror that took place in the Capitol, I can feel my hands start shaking, that empty feeling that I had earlier intensifying until I'm sure that I'm going to throw up.

Then Katniss grabs my hand, like I did during Peeta's interview, and I can calm down enough to watch until Beetee says, "Let it go!", throwing up his hands and letting the broadcast go back to the Capitol. He grabs a towel and wipes his face, then says, "If they're not out of there by now, they're all dead."

Katniss lets out a small whimper, and I grip onto her hand more tightly, the possibility sending sickening horror through my stomach, before Beetee quickly adds, "It was a good plan, though. Did Plutarch show it to you?"

Of course he didn't. Beetee thankfully takes us to another room and tries to lead us through it, but I don't get half of it. For a moment I'm worried that he's going to drop into the condescending teacher thing that drives me nuts, but instead he says that he's glad we find the plan hard to follow, because then the enemies will, too.

"Like your electricity trap in the arena?" Katniss asks.

"Exactly. And see how well that worked out?"

I would laugh if we weren't in the current situation. Instead, Katniss and I both exchange a skeptical look, then leave.

First we attempt to station ourselves in Command since that's where the first sign of news would come from, but we're not allowed in there because apparently some kind of sophisticated war business is taking place, and Katniss and I aren't important enough to see it.

We both refuse to leave Special Defense, though, instead waiting in a strange room filled with trees and grass with colorful little hummingbirds zooming around through the air.

There are a few stabs at pitiful conversation before we both take out our ropes and start tying knots. Someone comes and offers us dinner, but neither of us can eat. I continue making my knots, my fingers turning raw, starting to bleed. Eventually it's too much and I curl up into a small ball in a corner and lie there, wanting some kind of news, for this terrible wait to just be _over_.

I see Annie dead. I see her being shot. The hovercraft they try to steal her with being shot down. I see the rescue attempt failing and her being murdered because of what I said about Snow. And worse, so much worse, I see them forgetting about Annie, leaving her behind, because Peeta is _so _much more important.

Katniss's voice brings me out of my spiraling thoughts.

"Did you love Annie right away, Finnick?"

Did I love her right away? I think back to the first time I saw her, the little dark-haired girl who wouldn't look me in the eye because she was scared of me. The girl who I stabbed after she snuck up on me, and then who refused my help afterwards. We spent a lot of time together after that, but she was like my sister. I think I still had a thing for Arowana for those first couple years.

"No," I answer, thinking of days at the beach, picking her up from school, reading in the library, and eating supper with her family because I didn't have any family of my own. After a very long time, I add, "She crept up on me."

I grab my rope again after that, tie knot after knot after knot, ignoring my bleeding fingers, my twisting gut, my pain-filled thoughts.

The door opens an indeterminate amount of time later, and I look up to see Haymitch stepping into the room. "They're back. We're wanted in the hospital," he says. "That's all I know."

They're back. They're back. They're back.

Annie is here. Here. In the same building as me. My legs seem to freeze, and I swear that my heart is going to pound out of my chest, and I can't move because I'm so shocked, so surprised, because I never really thought that she'd come back, and then Katniss is holding my hand and dragging me.

I don't even pay attention to where we're going, just follow her, letting this amazing warm feeling spread through my gut and up into my chest, something that feels a lot like hope, a lot like happiness, like something I haven't really felt for so many months.

Then we're in the hospital and everyone is screaming, doctors shouting orders, and several wounded people are being pushed past us, but I hardly notice. My eyes are peeled and I can't see her. Someone almost runs into us with a gurney and I suck in a gasp of air when I see the emancipated skeleton of a woman with a shaved head, bruises and scabs spread across her skin.

Recognition stops me, and an unfounded worry that it's Annie sweeps through my head, but it's Johanna instead, and for just a moment I feel like maybe I shouldn't be so happy, like I should visit her because she has no one.

Then I hear the scream of, "Finnick!", and absolutely nothing else matters.

I whirl around just in time to see her, to see Annie, my Annie, running towards me, and I'm so sure that she's an angel because she isn't hurt at all, and there's an enormous smile on her face, and then she's running into me so hard that I fall back against a wall, but it doesn't matter because she's here in my arms.

I hold her as tightly against me as possible, burying my face in her hair, not able to believe that she's here, but knowing that it's her because I can _feel _it.

"Annie," I murmur, and then I kiss her, hard, doing everything I can to take her in all at once, safe and sound and with me. Her arms wrap around her neck, holding onto me like she's never going to let go. The war, Peeta, Katniss, Snow, everything fades to nothingness and Annie is the only thing that still exists.

**A/N- **

**Aw, they're finally back together. Tell me what you think of it. Thanks to the people who reviewed, and I'll get the next chapter up tomorrow. **

**~bballgirl32~**


	35. Dreaming

"They didn't hurt me very badly," Annie assures me for what has to be the tenth time. "It was worse listening to the others… Johanna was terrible, Finnick, you should be more worried about her."

"I am worried about her," I say honestly, "but I'm more concerned about what I did to you."

"You did nothing to me," she says, clinging tightly to my hands. "Nothing."

Our conversation stops for a moment, the sounds around the hospital becoming louder in our silence. Annie isn't allowed to leave until a doctor is available to give her a psychological examination, so she's stuck in here at least overnight, and there's no way that I'm going to leave without her.

"I wanted to go and rescue you," I finally tell her softly. She reaches up and gently brushes a strand of hair out of my face. That little touch, just the fact that she is here and can touch me, gets me to smile.

"Then I should thank everyone who kept you here. You would have gotten yourself killed, Finnick."

"Being dead would be better than living without you," I say, and Annie shakes her head.

"This isn't a romance novel," she says, a beautiful smile still spread across her face, green eyes shining brightly even though the darkness.

I sigh and rest on of my hands on her cheek.

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean what I said isn't true."

"It's still too much," she says, leaning her face into my hand. "Besides, I was fine. No one even touched me."

"Annie," I say, studying her closely. She _looks _amazing, but she should know better than anyone that internal damage can be more painful than physical.

"I'm fine," she presses again. "More than fine, now that you're here."

Now that I'm here. She should hate me, she should never want to see me again, but, of course, sometimes love works in ways that it shouldn't. As much as I know I don't deserve her, I also know that if she's dealt with me for this long, she isn't going to get rid of me now.

Blaming myself, whining about how terrible I am, about how she needs better, is going to be a waste of time, not to mention pathetic. So I sigh and kiss her again. She says she's okay, she's functioning and laughing and smiling, so there's no reason to dwell on the past, not right now, anyway.

"Okay," I say as I pull back. "You're fine. I believe you."

"Thank you," she says softly, her bright eyes meeting mine. "And you?"

"I am now," I answer, and because this moment is too perfect to talk about bouts of insanity or weeks of depression, Annie doesn't press for any more.

We sit in silence for a very long time, not saying anything, but not needing to. My heart is still pounding like crazy from nothing more than her presence, and my head is spinning from how hard it is to comprehend how much everything changed within the last two days.

Then, suddenly, Annie stiffens, her eyes snapping back over to me, her eyes filled with tears.

"Is this actually real?" she asks suddenly. "Am I dreaming?"

And I know that with Annie, she isn't asking ask the question rhetorically. She honestly has no idea if I'm real or not.

I lean over her bed and gently kiss her on the lips.

"No," I answer. "You aren't dreaming. If it was a dream, Johanna wouldn't be hurt, Peeta wouldn't have attacked Katniss, and you wouldn't be in a hospital."

Her hands are shaking, and she looks at me skeptically.

"Do you promise that you'll still be here in the morning?"

The question makes me gulp, makes me feel sick, reminds me of the memories that the things I said yesterday stirred up from the lowest drudges of my mind.

Several Capitol women, the few who fancied themselves in love with me, asked me that same question, and always, I lied. I said that I would be. I promised to stay, then never did.

I give my head a fierce shake, forcing myself to focus on Annie, on her being here, and nothing else, and it's not hard, because when someone is your entire world, there isn't very much else anyway.

"I promise," I say. She looks me straight in the eye, her gaze still not quite focused, but focused enough that I know she is seeing me through her veil of tears.

As instantly as they came, all thoughts of the Capitol women are gone, replaced by Annie and only Annie.

"I trust you," she says, and then her eyes, which she'd been struggling to keep open, finally shut, and her breathing evens as she slips into a blissful sleep.

I watch her for a very long time, still halfway unbelieving that she's here, until my sleepless night finally catches up with me. I crawl into bed next to her and gently wrap my arms around her as I slip into the first peaceful sleep I've had in a very long time.

**A/N- **

**Aw, cute, right? Sorry it's so short, and kind of pointless, but there aren't very Finnick/Annie moments in the story, so I figured I could add an extra one. Thanks to all of my awesome reviewers. I only have four chapters and the epilogue left to write, so I'm going to start doing two updates a day, unless I forget. **

**~bballgirl32~**


	36. Proposals

The next few weeks pass in a blissfulness that I can hardly describe. Even though Annie is forced to live in the hospital because of somewhat frequent relapses, she's still with me every second of every day.

She eats with me, walks with me, stands off to the side while they film more _We Remember _propos. I introduce her to Greasy Sae and Prim, show her my trident, and give her a complete tour of District 13.

Her favorite place is easily the Hummingbird room. She's fascinated by the small birds and spends hours watching them fly around while I spend hours watching her.

I hate to admit it, but I ignore everything except her. One of the nurses told me that Johanna is constantly high on morphling, and I don't want to deal with a Johanna on drugs when I can hardly deal with her normally.

Katniss had been harder to quit talking to, before she left for District 2, but I had a feeling that she probably wouldn't want me around. Prim told me the specifics about Peeta's hijacking, how they aren't sure he's ever going to get better, and I'm worried that seeing me happy and with Annie would just be rubbing salt in the wound. So I focus on Annie instead.

I don't think that I let her out of my sight except for when she's forced to return to the hospital, and even then I walk her there and back.

It's on one of those walks, when we're talking about Katniss and Peeta, that Annie mentions how much it looked like they love each other and how she hopes they can still get married.

That's when I realize it.

Snow no longer has control over me. There isn't an axe over anyone's throat anymore. _I _can marry _her. _

"Annie," I say, stepping in front of her and collecting her hands in mine. I open my mouth to say that we can get married, to tell her that we need to talk to Coin immediately, when I realize that she hasn't even agreed yet.

I take a deep breath and kneel down in front of her, looking up into her angelically beautiful green eyes.

"Will you marry me?"

Annie lets out a small gasp, her eyes widening dramatically, and asks, "Did you really think that through?"

I smile up at her and say, "I've been thinking it through for five years, Annie."

Tears fill her eyes, and she nods mutely, too choked up to speak.

A nod. Yes. She said yes. I am going to marry Annie Cresta. The notion is so unbelievable that I start laughing, and then Annie is laughing too. I stand up and sweep her into my arms, holding her and kissing her, and wishing that I'll never have to let her go.

…

Two days later, I'm sitting in the Hummingbird Room with Annie, having one of those perfect silent moments where it seems like time seems to sit still, when the door clatters open.

The interruption makes Annie jump up with fearful eyes, but it's only Fulvia standing in front of us. I put a hand on the small of Annie's back, and she leans into it, her tension easing away.

"Finnick, Annie," Fulvia says cheerfully, "I've been looking everywhere for you. I suppose that the first thing I should do is offer my congratulations. We've been discussing your engagement all day in Command."

I give her a surprised look. Coin is the only person who I've told, and that was to ask when a wedding would be possible. She'd just raised an eyebrow and said that she'd get back to me.

"You don't have a problem with him marrying me, do you?" Annie asks, voicing exactly what I was thinking. I don' t see any other reason that they'd be discussing it in Command. But how would it be bad for the rebellion? No. There's no way that they're going to keep me from marrying Annie.

"Oh, no," Fulvia laughs, and I release a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. "We're all thrilled with it. But do you think that we could talk with the two of you? We have tons to discuss!"

I look to Annie, and she bites her lip. I know that she doesn't want to have a big discussion with a bunch of people she doesn't even know, but Fulvia is making it sound like they have positive news to tell us. I don't think that it'd be good for either of us if we refuse to go.

"We can go," she finally tells me softly. "Just don't leave me alone with them."

I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her close.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Then Fulvia leads us down to Command, almost skipping with every step, looking like she wants to tell us something extremely badly but isn't allowed to.

There are about a dozen people sitting in Command when we get there, and almost every single one of them gets up to offer some type of congratulations. Coin is the only one who stays in her seat, her colorless eyes watching me so carefully that I'm not able to forget she's there, even above the cheering and handshakes.

After a few minutes, everyone calms down, and Plutarch stands up.

"Currently Katniss is in District 2, but we expect her to be back within the week. As soon as our Mockingjay returns, we are going to have a wedding."

I look at him in surprise. Is that all that he wanted to say? I would have waited for Katniss anyway. It would be the least that I could do for her. She's the main reason that the wedding is possible in the first place.

Plutarch continues, "Finnick, Annie, if it is okay with the two of you, we would like to make your wedding a district-wide event, and shoot clips of it to make into a propo."

My first instinct is to say no, that I want our wedding to be a private moment, with no one there except for our closest friends, that I don't want it to turn into some kind of weapon to use against the Capitol.

Then I realize what having our wedding broadcasted would do. It would show Snow just how little control he still has over me. It would show him that despite his best efforts, he hasn't been able to break me.

As for inviting everyone in the district, it would only be right. The people here have almost no reason to celebrate, and even though I'd never imagined my wedding being anything more than a small, private ceremony, I don't care if Snow himself is there as long as I get to share the moment with Annie.

"Are you okay with it?" I ask her gently, not even thinking about arguing with whatever her answer is.

She bites her lip and lets her eyes flash nervously to every person in the room before she nods and says, "I want everyone to be happy with me."

That logic makes me smile as I press, "And you don't care about the propos?"

"I don't care about anything as long as I can marry you," she whispers softly.

"Okay, then," I tell Plutarch, having all of the answer I need. "You tell us where to go, what to do. Neither of us care as long as we can be married."

He nods at us and smiles.

"Very good. I'm sure that this will be the most fun District 13 has had in a long, long time. And again, congratulations, Finnick. I mean it."

I lock eyes with him for a moment and think about how badly I hated him for not getting Annie out of the Capitol. Now that I'm thinking more clearly, I know that he was right, that it wasn't like he could have just barged in there and yanked her out. It would've been dangerous and stupid, and if they failed, things just would have been worse for her.

He didn't do anything wrong, not really. In all honesty, he's a big part of why I have enough freedom to marry Annie in the first place.

"Thank you," I tell him sincerely. "And, I'm sorry. About, you know."

"All said and done," he replies cheerfully. "Don't worry about it."

I nod at him, accept another round of congratulations from the people spread out across the room, and then Annie and I leave to go back to the hummingbird room.

**A/N-**

**I hope it doesn't feel like I skipped ahead too much there, but as much as I love Finnick/Annie fluff, writing two weeks worth of it would get kind of old. Thanks for all of the awesome reviews for the last chapter, by the way.**

**~bballgirl32~**


	37. To Kill A Mockingjay

That night, I'm sitting with Annie in the hospital, Prim taking a break from her duties to sit on the foot of her bed and watch the television screen. Plutarch had found Annie and me not four hours after we left Command to tell us that District 2 is planning to surrender tonight.

A part of me hadn't wanted to bother watching, but when I heard that Katniss was making a speech, I figured that I owed her enough to watch her at least. Besides, Prim wanted me to, and I don't think I could say no to her.

"People of District Two," Katniss begins, snapping all of our attention to the screen, "this is Katniss Everdeen speaking to you from the steps of your Justice Building, where-"

She stops as a loud screeching noise dominates the screen. The cameras turn towards a pair of trains, chugging out of an enormous mountain.

As the camera pans out to take in the entire scene, I can clearly see what the rebels have done. All of the entrances to the mountain seemed to be covered with dirt and rocks, except for the tunnels into the city square, and as I look more closely, I see that that is surrounded by armed soldiers.

They trapped the workers in the mountain with only one way out, and then surrounded them with people ready to shoot. Ready to shoot? Or ordered to shoot?

"Finnick, what's going on?" Annie asks softly. I take her hand and shake my head. I don't know. Something that's not supposed to happen, otherwise everyone wouldn't look so confused.

They won't actually shoot the people coming out of the mountain, will they? And what were they doing in the first place? Trying to destroy the mountain with them inside? That isn't right, even during a war. It's something that Snow would do.

"I don't know," I tell her confusedly, looking towards Prim. "Was this planned?"

But she doesn't answer. Instead she's ghost pale, and her horror-filled eyes are trained on the screen, not looking away.

"I can't believe they did that," she says. "Katniss wouldn't have let them do that."

I start to ask what she's talking about, but then the doors to the trains slide open and dozens of people come tumbling out in a cloud of smoke.

Before the smoke clears enough to see them clearly, a spray of bullets erupts from inside the station. Annie closes her eyes and starts whispering to herself, burying her face in my chest and shaking uncontrollably.

"Calm down," I whisper, rubbing her back methodically, trying not to look as I see one of the trains burst into flames, see people pushing out into the square where dozens of machine guns are trained on them. "It's okay, Annie. It's okay. We don't need to watch it if you don't want to, do you want to turn it off?"

She opens her mouth to answer, but is cut off by Katniss's shout of, "Stop! Hold your fire! Stop!"

Then she's running down onto the square towards one of the men, sprinting like crazy right into the group of survivors from the trains.

"No, no, no," Prim says, scooting back closer to where I'm sitting next to Annie. "What is she doing?"

Annie looks up slowly, then, seeing Prim, she turns her head resolutely away from the screen, instead focusing on trying to calm down the younger girl.

In contrast, I can't tear my eyes away, even though I know that I should.

Katniss reaches the man to help him, but instead he drags himself to his knees and trains his gun on her head.

The hospital goes dead quiet as Katniss takes two quick steps backwards, her eyes wide.

"No," Prim whispers, and Annie moves forward to hold the younger girl's hand. "No."

"Give me one reason I shouldn't shoot you," the man says, his voice garbled. It looks like something was shot through his cheek.

""I can't," says Katniss, and Prim whimpers. We all wait for the man to shoot her, to take her out, but he doesn't. Her words have confused him. "I can't. That's the problem, isn't it? We blew up your mine. You burned my district to the ground. We've got every reason to kill each other. So do it. Make the Capitol happy. I'm done killing their slaves for them."

She drops her bow and kicks it over to him. The man bows his head and mutters, "I'm not their slave."

He says that, but I know that he's wrong. Of course he's their slave. We all are. Everyone is the Capitol's slave in some way or the other, or at least we all were at some point of time.

I know that more than anyone.

And Katniss clearly knows that, too, because her next words are, "I am. That's why I killed Cato… and he killed Thresh… and he killed Clove… and she tried to kill me. It just goes around and around, and who wins? Not us. Not the districts. Always that Capitol. But I'm tired of being a piece in their Games."

Tired of being a piece in their Games. I can't say that. I won't want to quit playing these Games until there's a clear cut winner, but I know what Katniss is saying. That having your life revolving around Snow, around the Capitol, whether it's good or bad, is tiring. And I want it to stop.

"When I saw that mountain fall tonight, I thought… they've done it again," she continues. "Got me to kill you- the people in the districts. But why did I do it? District Twelve and District Two have no fight except the one the Capitol gave us."

Katniss kneels before the young man urgently, every eye in Panem no doubt on her.

"And why are you fighting with the rebels on the rooftops? With Lyme, who was your victor. With people who were your neighbors, maybe even your family?"

"I don't know," says the man, his gun still raised threateningly.

Katniss stands and turns slowly in a circle, talking to the rebels.

"And you up there? I come from a mining town. Since when do miners condemn other miners to that kind of death, and then stand by to kill however manages to crawl from the rubble?

"These people are not your enemy!" she shouts at the machine guns, then turns to address the wounded bodies on the square and addresses them. "The rebels are not your enemy! We all have one enemy, and it's the Capitol. This is our chance to put an end to their power, but we need every district person to do it!

"Please!" she concludes. "Join us!"

There's a second of hope, a second where we all release our breath as the man lets go of his gun and everything seems like it's going to be okay.

Then a gunshot rings through the television and Katniss crumples to the ground.

Prim sits stock still, her eyes wide with shock, her face even whiter than it had been before. Annie screams.

I'm more used to seeing things like this, have seen too much for it to surprise me, and even as my stomach twists with a horrible kind of worry that the Mockingjay is dead.

Then I see her try to sit up, but she groans instead. I see the man who had been raising his gun at her force himself to her side and kneel next to her. Dozens rebels rush over to her, and gunfire erupts all around.

There's blood and guts, and I think most of the people who escaped from the mountain are dead, so I quickly reach up to turn it off, knowing that Annie and Prim don't need to see that.

"Katniss," Prim whispers once it's done, hugging herself tightly. I look at Annie to make sure that she's okay, then sit myself down next to Prim and wrap my arms around her.

"It's okay," I say. "She's going to be fine. Did you see her try to sit up? She's still alive. I didn't even see blood. It went off of her suit. She won't die. Just a few broken ribs, if anything. She's fine, Prim."

"B-but-," she starts, tears in her eyes.

"Prim," I say, looking right into her big blue eyes. "You saw Katniss in the Games, right? The first time?"

She nods mutely.

"So you saw her leg get burnt? How she dealt with the tracker jacker stings? And you saw Clove cut her with that knife and make her lose all that blood?"

Another nod.

"And she survived all of those things without any medical care, didn't she? She got through them by herself or with Peeta's help, in the middle of an arena. So don't you think she can survive a bullet that didn't even touch her, with the best medical care she could get anywhere?"

Prim swallows, and I can see her latching tightly onto my words, wanting to believe them. I don't blame her. I want to believe them, too. Annie sits still beside us, listening to me, too.

"She probably could, couldn't she?"

"Katniss is a victor," I say, forcing a smile. "I'd say that she would have survived it even without the suit. If you want, we could all go down to Command and make Plutarch tell us how she is as soon as he finds out."

"You wouldn't mind?" asks Prim, her eyes flashing back to the screen like she can still see her sister there, even though it's completely blank.

"No, not at all," I say comfortingly. "Come on."

Then the three of us start down to Command to see how Katniss is doing.


	38. Wedding Bells

It turns out that Katniss ruptured her spleen. They perform emergency surgery to get it out within minutes, and she's back in 13 by the morning.

Annie and I go to visit her at one point in time, but she's out cold and isn't supposed to wake up for another couple of days. Plutarch is having us so busy talking about the wedding that I don't get any other chances to see her.

For the next two weeks, Annie and I don't have three seconds to ourselves. Coin and Plutarch continually drag us into arguments about the size of the wedding, Fulvia has us teach District Four's wedding song to a choir of kids who volunteered to sing, and then asks for a detailed outline of what weddings in our district were like, in an attempt to make it as traditional as possible.

I appreciate the effort that they're all going through, but with everything going on, it seems ridiculous. At one point Johanna even shows up in the dining hall when Fulvia is pointing out where everything should go, and starts mocking her behind her back.

Despite her attitude on the significance the people from the Capitol are giving the wedding, she still gives me a hasty hug on my way out, then glares and threatens to kill me if I tell anyone about it.

As the wedding gets closer, the smaller details start becoming bigger concerns. Plutarch worries about the quality of food, but eventually Coin relents to allowing their strict diets to be changed for the single night. After another argument, Haymitch finds me and announces that Peeta is well enough to do the cake and asks for my permission on it.

I'm shocked to hear that he's gotten that much better. I haven't been allowed to see him because the doctors were worried that I would trigger unpleasant memories of his second Games, but from what I've heard, it sounded almost like he was a rabid animal.

"Is he well enough to actually do that?" I ask Haymitch.

"He's better," he says simply.

I study him carefully for a moment, but am forced to give my consent without anymore questions when Fulvia comes to drag me away to another meeting with Plutarch.

This time they're worrying about what Annie needs to wear, and as beautiful as I think she'd be in anything, I'm still thankful that the issue is solved when a healing Katniss volunteers to take her to District 12 and retrieve one of the dresses that she wore on the Victory Tour.

I'm thrilled at the chance for Annie to meet Katniss, and even though I spend half the day worrying that the hovercraft is going to be shot down, listening to Annie talk about how much of a good time she had makes the worrying worth it.

After another couple days of decorating, planning, and arguing, Prim cheerfully wakes me up from where I was sleeping beside Annie's now vacated hospital bed, and tells me that it's my wedding day.

For the first time since Plutarch called me to that meeting, I have a chance to catch my breath and realize exactly what's happening.

I am marrying Annie Cresta. Something that I never thought possible. Before the night is done, her name will be Annie Odair. She'll be mine, forever.

The morning flies by in a haze, but it seems like nothing more than a bunch of people keeping me out of different places.

Annie was apparently whisked away to prep before I even woke up, and no one will let me see her until she's finished. When I try to go to the dining hall to eat, Plutarch shooes me away because he doesn't want me to see any of the decorations. Then I try to go to Special Defense to toss a trident around to ease my nerves, but Beetee kicks me out, telling me that I should be relaxing.

I eventually return to my quarters and start tying knots to pass the time. Haymitch finds me an hour or so later and leads me off to my prep room, where Beetee is waiting for us.

"What are you doing here?" I ask confusedly.

"We didn't think you'd want to get 'prepped' for your wedding," he says, "and since you don't know very many other people here, Haymitch invited me to help you get ready."

Even though I've never really liked Beetee, probably because we're polar opposites in almost every area, I can't help but be thankful for that insight.

"Thank you," I say sincerely, turning to include Haymitch in my address, too. "I appreciate it."

"You deserve it," says Beetee, and I can't help but think that, like Plutarch, maybe I shouldn't have judged him so quickly.

I fall into a nervous silence after our initial conversation, and Beetee and Haymitch get to work. It's amusing, watching two people so little suited for anything of the kind trying to get me ready, but, in my opinion, they're both better than the Capitol's best prep team.

Haymitch helps me into one of Peeta's old suits, and Beetee does the tie for me, but other than that, all that they do is help me relax. Nothing is changed, there's no makeup, no special hairdo, nothing. For once in my life, I'm nothing more than Finnick Odair, and it feels like I'm going to let everyone see _me _for the first time. Not the flirtatious rogue from my first Games or the Capitol's dreamy sex-symbol or even the insane, heartbroken shell I've been for the past few months, but me, as an actual person.

That only makes me more nervous, but it also increases the dizzying happiness that I've been feeling ever since I got Annie back from the Capitol.

"Are you ready?" Beetee asks me after Haymitch manages to wrestle my wild hair into place.

"I've been ready for years," I say honestly. A few moments later, Plutarch comes and leads me to the door in front of the dining hall. I'm feeling too anxious to talk, but he chats on anyway, and if I didn't know better, I'd almost say that he was excited for the actual event rather than just the effect it will have on the rebellion.

My breath is nearly taken away when I enter the hall. Everyone in the district has to be there. There are literally hundreds of people crowded into that single room with an aisle cleared up the middle, autumn leaves scattered around for decoration.

Everyone falls completely silent I walk to my place at the front of the hall, a warm feeling in the pit of my stomach growing bigger and bigger with every step. People are staring, but for once in my life, the stares aren't to ogle me, aren't in disgust, or interest, but in genuine happiness.

Once I come to my place at the front of the room, in front of Dalton, a man from District 10, the choir of children starts singing District Four's wedding song, and the doors open once again.

My breath catches in my throat when I see Annie start gliding down the aisle on Haymitch's arm. I'm sure that her dress is beautiful, that her makeup is perfect, and that her hair looks wonderful, but I hardly even notice because as soon as my eyes lock with hers, everything else ceases to exist.

They're so vibrant, so sweet, so purely happy that somewhere deep in my heart, I know that this world, right now, is the most perfect, amazing place that has ever existed. Wars, fighting, not even the Games matter in the light of the angel who ended up with me by some crazy, messed up twist of fate.

Then that angel is right in front of me, and by some unspoken agreement, we both reach out and grab each other's hands. Dalton drapes the _velum_, or a net woven of grass that's a staple in weddings in District 4, over both of us, then begins the wedding.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Annabeth Cresta and Finnick Odair.

"In times like this, it would be easy to look back on what these two young people have been through-" Annie tightens her hands around my own- "but instead, today we are going to look to the bright future that is now in front of this couple."

He turns to me and says, "Do you, Finnick, take Annie to be your lawfully wedded wife, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?"

It feels like my heart is stuck in my throat, and for a moment I'm not sure than I can speak, but eventually I manage to choke out the words, "I do."

"And do you, Annie, take Finnick to be your lawfully wedded husband, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?"

She peers up at me with tears in her eyes and whispers, "I do."

"Now," announces Dalton, "they will touch each other's lips with saltwater to show that they will provide love and support to each other even through the salty taste of tears. Finnick, you will go first.

A small boy steps forward, carrying a shallow bowl, and I dip my hand into the cool water, then gently run my fingers over Annie's soft lips.

"Annie," says Dalton gently, and she does the same, the salty taste of the ocean causing my smile to widen even more.

Because there really isn't any jewelry at all to be found in District 13, and I didn't want to borrow any of Katniss's or Peeta's things for something so important, Annie and I both decided that we were going to forgo the exchanging of the rings until we could get our own, so Dalton concludes the ceremony by saying,

"I now pronounce you man and wife. Finnick, you may kiss your bride."

With tears in my eyes and my heart thudding its way out of my chest, I lean in and touch my lips to hers.

Cheers erupt from the crowd, and then Dalton removes the _velum_, declaring, "I present to you, Finnick and Annie Odair."

Then I pull Annie close and walk into the crowd with her, my _wife _at my side. Plutarch raises his glass of apple cider to toast us, but I hardly notice. I hardly notice anything for the rest of night, anything except for Annie.

A fiddler from District 12 strikes up a tune, a slow dance for the first song, and I pull Annie close to me as the crowd parts to give us center stage. She smiles up at me the entire time, and when that's done, the real dancing starts.

Greasy Sae grabs Gale's hand and pulls him to the center of the floor to start, and everyone else seems to follow, breaking into two long lines before everyone starts doing some whacky mix between a square dance and whatever happens when people who don't know how to square dance try to.

After a while, the lines break up, and people start doing their own thing. At first I don't let go of Annie's hand, but then Gale is asking to dance with her, and Johanna tows me off, and everyone starts switching partners and getting crazier and crazier until the doors swing open again and they wheel an enormous wedding cake in.

My breath catches when I see the beautiful cake, decorated like a swirling ocean with sailboats and fish, sea flowers, even seals. It's perfect. Annie's at my side immediately, her hair starting to fall out of her fancy updo, and her cheeks red from dancing. My heart squeezes in my chest, and once again I shake my head at how amazingly lucky I am that this beautiful angel is mine.

I cut the first two pieces out of the cake, and Annie and I each grab one and shove the overlarge pieces in each other's mouths, causing us to both laugh and choke to the applause of the entire audience, and then we kiss again and start dancing more, happy and carefree, and feeling like absolutely nothing can stop us as long as we have each other.

**A/N- **

**What do you think? I know a lot of people were excited for the wedding, so I hope it lived up to expectations.**

**Thanks to- **

**Hahukum Konn, RueofDistrict11, cindella204, crescentrose22, eVilIsabelle, Daydreaming Viking Girl, and Blue dot77 for reviewing chapters 34-37. **

**Please keep it up. **

**~bballgirl32~ **

**~bballgirl32~**


	39. Decisions

I want to forget about the war and be happy. I want to lose myself in Annie and pretend that nothing else is going on, at least for a week, maybe two.

But apparently Coin doesn't believe in any blissful escapes, because she has one of her people send for me at breakfast two days after my wedding, telling me to leave Annie behind.

"No," I say, holding onto her hand tightly. I don't think I've let it go for more than ten minutes since the wedding. I'm too worried that this will all end up being a dream if I do. "Coin can put off whatever it is for at least a few days."

The man looks at me closely, then asks, "They're making preparations to send a team to the Capitol. You will not be allowed to go if you do not meet with her."

A team to the Capitol. Where Snow is. So I can kill him.

I can make a difference in this war, I can fight, for the first time. Then I feel Annie's eyes on me and turn, my heart wrenching when I realize that going to the Capitol would mean leaving her. When I realize how dangerous it is, that something _might _happen to me that could keep me from ever getting home.

And when I realize that Annie probably doesn't even want me to go in the first place.

"Finnick," she says urgently, her eyes locking with mine.

I swallow and look away from her because I know that I'm going to go to the Capitol no matter what. I need to make Snow pay for everything he has done to her, my family, to myself. And because this is a war, and I was born a fighter, I'm not going to be able to sit back and twiddle my thumbs while everyone else is fighting for their lives.

"Annie," I whisper, "you know why I need to go."

Her tears are threatening to spill over, but she nods slightly.

"I know," she says softly, taking a shaky breath, "And I'm not going to ask you to stay home, but if you d-die…"

"I won't die," I assure her, gently kissing her forehead. "If I haven't died yet, I'm not going to die at all."

Coin's messenger clears his throat awkwardly, and I groan.

"Meet me in the Hummingbird Room when you're done with breakfast?" I suggest halfheartedly, not wanting to leave her behind.

She nods and I kiss her softly before following the messenger to Command.

Coin is alone in the enormous room, studying one of the computer screens closely. She looks up and smiles when the door shuts behind me, announcing my entrance.

"So you did come. I see that you aren't as helplessly dependent on your wife as I was starting to believe."

Helplessly dependent. I hate how the words sound, probably because they ring of being true. Not even a month ago, wasn't I thinking that I'd kill myself if they botched her escape attempt?

I shake my head. I wouldn't have killed myself. I have way too much understanding of the value of life. Annie means a lot to me, almost everything, but I _could _exist without her, even though saying that I'd still be alive would be pushing it.

"In love, not hopelessly dependent," I contradict, even though I know that she'd have no idea what being in love feels like.

"Either way," she says dismissively, "I was concerned that you would be unwilling to go to the Capitol when we begin the final siege in three weeks time. But by your presence, I take it that I am mistaken?"

"I'm going to go," I say emphatically. Coin shakes her head, studying me closely.

"You are not going to go, you want to go," she corrects. "Both Katniss and Johanna are in your same situation. None of you have been to any of your training sessions, you have trouble following orders, and you are all enemy targets."

"And what did you tell them?" I ask unconcernedly. I know for a fact that if Coin hasn't authorized them to go, they'll find someway to the Capitol, anyway. I'd just have to catch a ride with them.

"They are going to be put through basic training courses for the next few weeks, and if their instructors deem them fit, I will take them. You are a very different case."

"You just said that we were in identical situations," I point out with a smirk. Her eyes narrow dangerously, and I have to resist the urge to laugh. I've dealt with Snow face to face, and she has nothing on him.

"Your situations are identical," she says stiffly. "It is the people who are in the situations that are different. Katniss and Johanna are both in poor physical condition, with susceptibility to mental breakdowns, and in Miss Mason's case, a drug addiction."

A drug addiction? I know that they were giving her a lot of morphling, but I figured that would have stopped by now. And addicted to it? I've seen Johanna very little since she's gotten better, but she looked fine the couple times I danced with her at the wedding. A little thin, but…

But she almost got tortured to death, and who in the hell is helping her? She has no one, and I've been ignoring her completely because of Annie. I close my eyes, realizing that I've kind of been a dick, running off and hiding in a corner with Annie while everyone else suffers. I make a resolution to talk with Johanna sometime soon.

Coin continues speaking.

"You, on the other hand, have been cleared as mentally stable, and have no physical injuries that I am aware of.

"You will be placed in minimal courses of advanced training. Most of your training will involve simulated street combat on an artificial Capitol city block. There will also be several short tests on military tactics and weapons proficiency, but I believe that you will pass them easily."

I nod. This is easy. Simulated street combat? I've been through the Games, fought at the cornucopia, sliced my way through dozens of rabid monkeys, not to mention survived in two one on twenty-three situations in arenas where a false step could send start a tornado, where heading into the wrong area could get you eaten alive by carnivorous insects.

And the military tactics? I've been preparing for a rebellion for eight years. The tactics are second nature. As for weapons proficiency, my father drilled the basics of every somewhat dangerous object you can think of into my head since I could walk, save for guns, and I've used those plenty while I was pretending to kill Snow down in Special Defense before Annie came back.

Going through this training is going to be less work than I had any right to suspect.

"Okay. I've got no problem with any of this. When do I start?"

"I will have you tested at the end of this week, and you will start your training the following Monday. Do you have any questions?"

"No," I say, standing up. "None at all."

She looks back to the computer screen, and I leave the room.

…

I talk find Johanna to talk to later that day. She's laying in her bed in the hospital, looking completely exhausted. I take it that she started training today.

She raises an eyebrow when she sees me.

"A visitor. It seems that someone has remembered me after all."

The words are meant to be joking and sarcastic, but I know her well enough to see that she's miserable. No matter how tough she acts, no matter how much it appears that she's glad she doesn't have anyone to love, it hits her hard.

"I didn't forget you," I say, trying to keep my words light. "I was just distracted."

"Districted?" she says incredulously. "I know I don't hold a candle to the Little Mermaid, but I think I deserve a few seconds of thought."

Again, she sounds joking, but her words still make me guilty, especially because she's right. All of that time she was in the Capitol, where I knew she was getting tortured, I didn't spare a second thought for her.

I know Johanna, and I know that she isn't needy. She isn't trying to come across as deprived, but she's feeling it so much that she is anyway.

Over the past few years of mentoring together, especially following the day I found her in the Capitol, we became good friends, and now, because of Annie, I completely disregarded her.

I take a seat at the foot of her bed and look her straight in the eye.

"I'm sorry about that. It's just that living a month without Annie killed me, and then after getting her back, and the wedding…" I trail off, knowing that excuses aren't going to matter. "At least it sounds like you're getting some quality time with Katniss. Or I guess Coin made it sound that way."

"She's becoming tolerable," says Johanna, shrugging slightly. "We're planning to run off to the Capitol together if we don't pass training. You going to join us?"

"Sorry, but I have a ride. Coin's giving me minimal training and a few tests, and then I'm good to go."

Johanna snorts as she sits up in her bed.

"Of course you wouldn't have to do much," she says, pinching my arm. "Then again, Coin probably favors you because of your pretty face."

I sputter out a laugh, the notion of Coin noticing anything beyond it's military value amusing enough that Johanna's comment doesn't even annoy me.

"Coin? I don't even think that my otherworldly beauty could touch her."

She rolls her eyes and says, "It probably could if your head wasn't so damn big." A man walks into the room, and she groans. "You'll have to leave now, unless you want to stick around for when Doctor Collins takes my shirt off to check healing skin sores."

"I'm good," I say, already starting to leave.

"If you're sure," says Johanna. "Although it'll probably be your last chance in a long time to see any decent sized boobs. Annie isn't exactly gifted in that department-"

"I'll stop by and visit you later, Johanna," I interrupt over her, shaking my head as I hurry past the doctor and out of the room.

**A/N- **

**Wow, 200 reviews. Well, 201 actually, but the point is the same. Thanks fo RueofDistrict11 for being my 200th reviewer (and pointing out my typos), and to everyone else who has reviewed at some point throughout this story. You guys are awesome. **

**~bballgirl32~**

**P.S.- crescentrose22 asked if I'm going to stay true to the book with the Finnick dying part, and I'm not. The ending will stay as close to the book as possible, with the exception that Finnick stays alive. **


	40. The Block

The first part of my training ends up being easier than I thought. I pass my tests without batting an eye, not even blinking an eye at the physical testing, and passing the weapons exam perfectly.

The simulated street combat is more difficult. The first few times I go through, I'm with various different squads, and I excel at those.

Then it's time to be tested individually, and that session isn't nearly as easy. At first, I think it's going to be simple. All that I need to do is go from Point A to Point B without getting myself killed. It sounds easy enough.

And it is easy enough. I mow down a few peacekeepers, avoid getting knocked out by poisonous gas, then start sprinting around a corner, but I'm stopped by the sound of someone screaming.

"Finnick!"

I whirl around, my heart freezing in my chest. Annie.

Except, it's not her. Not her. I tell myself that over and over again, but I still feel sick as I continue on down the street, continually looking over my shoulder.

"Don't leave me again! Finnick! Finnick!"

Damn. It sounds like her. What if Coin is doing this as some sick joke? What if it _is _her? It wouldn't sound that realistic otherwise.

"We have to get out of here, Soldier Odair," a voice says through my headset. My fake commander. "We've got thirty seconds."

Thirty seconds. I look forward, see that I still have another small stretch to cover where I'll have to shoot a couple Peacekeepers.

"FINNICK!"

I mentally slap myself. This is _simulated _street combat. No one is actually getting hurt. Not even Coin would be that stupid.

My hands shaking, and my ears ringing from Annie's screaming, I rush forward, half of myself still wanting to turn back despite how little chance there is that it's actually Annie.

I shoot down the Peacekeepers and reach the rendezvous point. My commander congratulates me, and I exit the far side of the Block.

Plutarch is leaning against the wall across from me, like he was waiting.

"Please tell me that Annie is safe," I order him, not even giving him the chance to speak. He waves his hand dismissively.

"Yes, yes, Annie is safe, and you have passed all of your tests. You now have clearance to go to the Capitol," he says. I relax and give him a small smile, thanking him quickly then going to find Annie.

After I pass that last test, I take to spending my training time in Special Defense, or occasionally on the track above ground, where I can take Annie with me.

She watches carefully, sometimes seeing me do something that sends her into one of her fits. I always stop and go over to comfort her, and she's fine in a couple of minutes. There are numerous times I ask if she really wants to be there, but she always says she does, so she stays.

I don't complain. I want her there, too, to be around her as much as possible. The notion of going to the Capitol for who knows how many weeks without her is painful, so I make up for it by only leaving her when absolutely necessary.

"I'm going to be sick of you pretty soon," Annie teases on the way to the Cafeteria one day, smiling up at me with twinkling green eyes. I grin and muss up her hair, which gets me an annoyed elbow in the ribs.

"Sorry, sorry," I apologize. "You know that you could go hang out with Haymitch whenever you wanted. Nobody is stopping you."

We stop and pick up enormous helpings of beef stew from Greasy Sae, who winks at me flirtatiously, then laughs when Annie gives her a strange look.

"Don't look at her like that. She can't help the reacting to my otherworldly good looks," I tell Annie as we look for a table.

A blonde girl waves to us and I look at her in confusion before Annie smiles and tells me, "That's Delly. I ate with her when you missed meals for training. She's one of Peeta's friends."

I raise an eyebrow because I didn't know Peeta had friends, but I sit by her anyway, supposing that she's decent if she goes out of her way to eat next to a supposedly mad girl.

"Good afternoon," Delly says cheerfully, scooping up some of her stew and smiling at us like we're old friends. "Did you notice that they got a shipment of meat in from District 10? The stew is delicious."

I look down at my portion, which is almost twice the normal size, and actually smells edible. I suppose that it's a good sign that transportation is back up.

"Thankfully we finally get enough to eat," I joke. "I was starting to get kind of bony."

"I know," says Delly emphatically, her eyes wide in agreement. "They say that the portions are for your size, but they were tiny!"

"Not very good, either," I agree, somewhat amusedly, seeing how much she's getting into the discussion. Annie must see something in my expression, because she sends me a nasty look before asking Delly how her day is going.

"Wonderful," says Delly. "Oh, look. There's Katniss and Gale, and… Johanna. Hey, over here!"

I have to wonder if she isn't some kind of wind-up toy that'll eventually lose its steam, or if she's this insanely cheerful all of the time.

An exhausted looking Katniss and Johanna both plunk down at our table, Gale hanging back and waiting to see where Katniss sits before taking his spot next to her.

Eventually the conversation starts again, mixing with the bantering and laughing from the other tables. It seems like everyone is in a good mood from the extra, good, food. Right now, it isn't hard to imagine that this war isn't going to last much longer.

I'm just finishing a ridiculous story about a sea turtle stealing my hat, watching Annie laugh, when half of the table seems to freeze.

Katniss chokes, and then Delly smiles with a forced cheer.

"Peeta! It's so nice to see you out… and about."

Peeta. My arm encircles Annie more tightly, and I turn my head to see him standing there, right behind us.

There are two guards behind him, and his wrists are shackled together, but it _looks _like Peeta. He doesn't seem to be crazy, anyway. But what is he doing here? The last I heard on him, he was unstable, at best.

"What's with the fancy bracelets?" asks Johanna.

"I'm not quite trustworthy yet," says Peeta. "I can't even sit here without your permission."

"Sure he can sit here," Johanna says, patting the space next to her. The guards nod, and Peeta takes a seat. "Peeta and I had adjoining cells in the Capitol. We're very familiar with each other's screams."

Annie stiffens and puts her hands over her ears, trying to block out screams that she still hears. I send Johanna an angry glare as my arm tightens around Annie. Does she do that on purpose, or is she that thick?

"What? My head doctor says I'm not supposed to censor my thoughts. It's part of my therapy," says Johanna.

I ignore her and start whispering to Annie, telling her that it's going to be okay, that I'm here, that nothing is going to happen to her until she slowly removes her hands.

There's a long silence where I watch her carefully and everyone else pretends like they're actually eating.

"Annie," says Delly brightly, clearly trying to break the awkward silence, "did you know it was Peeta who decorated your wedding cake? Back home, his family ran the bakery, and he did all the icing."

Annie bites her lips and cautiously leans across me and Johanna to look at Peeta. After a small hesitation, she says, "Thank you, Peeta. It was beautiful."

"My pleasure, Annie," says Peeta, his voice too gentle and giving her a look that I really _don't _like.

There's another small silence, but Peeta doesn't look away from Annie, and I know that if I don't leave soon, I'm going to gouge his eyes out with my spoon. He has no right to look at her like that.

I force a smile and tell Annie, "If we're going to fit in that walk, we better go," I arrange both of our trays on one arm, and keep the other circled around her. "Good seeing you, Peeta."

"You be nice to her, Finnick. Or I might try and take her away from you."

Annie leans into me worriedly, and I have to take a deep breath to keep from saying something stupid. I suppose it was meant to be a joke, but his tone is completely wrong. The undertones of distrust are bad enough, but he's implying that he wants Annie, that he'd have any chance of getting her in the first place.

"He doesn't mean it, Finnick," she whispers, softly enough that only I can hear. I nod and force a smile.

"Oh, Peeta," I say as lightly as I can. "Don't make me sorry I restarted your heart."

I give Katniss a concerned look, then usher Annie away, holding onto her tightly, even as I push back my old thoughts, the thoughts I had when she was gone, that Peeta would be better for her, that she should be with him.

"Are you okay, Finnick?" Annie asks softly. I look at her, in my arms, safe, protected, mine.

"Yeah," I say, kissing her forehead softly. "More than okay."


	41. Prince Charming?

A week later, a soldier stops me to tattoo a number on my hand and tell me that I'm wanted in Command immediately. The big shots are all crowded around the table when I get there, Gale and five others I don't know leaning against a wall. I'm waved over to where they're standing.

"Welcome to the 451," Gale says. "It's a specialized sharpshooters unit."

"Sharpshooters?" I ask, raising a brow. I'm good with a gun, but definitely wouldn't call myself a sharpshooter. "Shouldn't Katniss be here?"

"I don't-" Gale starts, but the door bursts open and the Mockingjay herself flies into the room, panting. Gale laughs and says, "Apparently she should be."

Katniss looks around confusedly, almost like she's not sure if she's actually supposed to be here, when Boggs stands up and says, "Let's see it." She holds up her hand, which is stamped with a 451, just like mine, and Boggs continues. "You're with me. It's a special unit of sharpshooters. Join your squad."

Then she sees us for the first time, and the effort that she makes not to smile has Gale and me both laughing. Katniss hurries over to where we are and takes her place in between the two of us.

As soon as she's in position, Plutarch gets up and stands over a wide, flat panel in the center of the table. He starts explaining something about what we are going to see when we're in the Capitol, and I crane my neck to try to get a look of what's on the panel, but it's blank.

For a moment I'm confused, but then he presses a button and a holographic image of a Capitol block is projected into the air.

"This, for example, is the area surrounding one of the Peacekeepers' barracks. Not unimportant, but not the most crucial of targets, and yet look."

Plutarch types something into a keyboard, and different colored lights start flashing at different speeds.

"Each light is called a pod. It represents a different obstacle, the nature of which could be anything from a bomb to a band of mutts. Make no mistake, whatever it contains is designed to either trap or kill you. Some have been in place since the Dark Days, others developed over the years. To be honest, I created a fair number myself. This program, which one of our people absconded with when we left the Capitol, is our most recent information. They don't know we have it. But even so, it's likely that new pods have been activated in the last few months. This is what you will face."

I start moving closer to the table with no conscious thought on my part, my eyes focused on those blinking pods. Thinking of tornados and avalanches, of jabber jays, toxic fog, killer monkeys…

It's like the Games all over again. Like an arena, scattered with pods, ready for the Gamemakers to activate, ready to be triggered with a single misstep. I reach out and touch a glowing red pod and whisper, "Ladies and gentlemen…"

"Let the Seventy-sixth Hunger games begin!" a voice says from behind me. Katniss. Who else? She laughs a little and continues, "I don't know why you bothered to put Finnick and me through training, Plutarch."

"Yeah," I agree, "we're already the two best-equipped soldiers you have."

"Do not think that fact escapes me," he says impatiently, waving us back to our places. "Now back in line, Soldiers Odair and Everdeen. I have a presentation to finish."

We return to our places along the wall, not paying any attention to the questioning looks the rest of the squad are giving us.

As Plutarch continues speaking, I become less and less focused.

I have never minded being in the arena. The Games have always been easy for me, second-nature, like I was built for them. But this is different now, because I have a wife who's lived through them too, who's had to watch me fight in two of them.

What will Annie say when I tell her that I'm going back into a fully-equipped arena? Do I have to tell her? What could I possibly say? What is she going to do?

I didn't expect this, not at all. I knew that the Capitol would have defenses, that it wouldn't be easy, but the fact that there are pods lining the streets, that one wrong movement could kill you, is not what I had expected.

Plutarch eventually finishes and adjourns the meeting, and I move towards Katniss as we leave the room.

"What will I tell Annie?" I whisper under my breath.

"Nothing," says Katniss. "That's what my mother and sister will be hearing from me."

"If she sees that holograph-" I start to argue, but she interrupts me.

"She won't. it's classified information. It must be. Anyway, it's not like an actual Games. Any number of people will survive. We're just overreacting because- well, you know why. You still want to go, don't you?"

"Of course. I want to destroy Snow as much as you do," I say without hesitation. It's not myself that I'm worried about. Going with what Katniss said and not telling Annie would be so easy, but I don't know if I can do it. She deserves to know… but does she deserve to be so worried?

No. I won't tell her. She'll have enough on her mind in the first place.

"It won't be like the others," Katniss says firmly. "This time, Snow will be a player, too."

I start to respond to that, but Haymitch rounds the corners and stops in front of us.

"Johanna's back in the hospital," he says.

I start and look at Katniss, wondering if she knows anything, but she looks at surprised as I am.

"Is she hurt? What happened?"

"It was while she was on the Block. They try to ferret out a soldier's potential weaknesses. So they flooded the street."

"So?" Katniss says, thinking along the same lines that I am. Johanna can swim. She did during the Quarter Quell, anyway.

"That's how they tortured her in the Capitol. Soaked her and then used electric shocks. In the Block she had some kind of flashback. Panicked, didn't know where she was. She's back under sedation."

Katniss and I both stand there numbly, not able to respond. I hadn't given much thought to the actual torturing that Johanna received, hadn't even considered what had went on with her in the Capitol. It had all been about Annie, and even though I've been trying to make up for it by talking with her more these last few weeks, I still haven't done half as much as I know that I should.

I can't imagine it, Johanna panicking, having to be sedated. Other than the first time I met her, when she was broken down and crying, she's been like a rock. Impossible to break. Now… now she'd sedated, in the hospital, not able to go to the Capitol.

"You two should go see her," says Haymitch. "You're as close to friends as she's got."

As close to friends as she's got. I close my eyes, knowing that I'm a shitty friend in that regard, especially since she has almost no one else.

"I better go tell Plutarch. He won't be happy," continues Haymitch. He wants as many victors as possible for the cameras to follow in the Capitol. Thinks it makes for better television."

"Are you and Beetee going?" asks Katniss.

"As many young and attractive visitors as possible," Haymitch corrects himself. "So, no. We'll be here."

After that, I go directly to the hospital to see Johanna. She's trying to stay awake above the sedative, her wet hair hanging limply in her face. She doesn't look like a victor. She looks almost like a little girl, so small in her hospital gown, her eyes fighting to stay open.

"Haymitch told me what happened," I say, sliding into the bed next to her. Instead of pushing me away like she always has whenever I tried to get close to her, she leans her head tiredly against my arm.

"Afraid of water," she says hoarsely. "It has to be stupid to you."

"I've seen people drown," I correct her softly. "Have seen boats capsize. Water is dangerous. Harmful. Especially when it's used by people like Snow. What he did to you probably would have killed most people, you know."

Johanna takes a deep, shaking breath, then lets it out slowly.

"You talk well," she murmurs. "Like Peeta. You can make people believe anything, even if it isn't true."

"It is true, though. I wouldn't lie to you."

"You wouldn't, would you?" she asks softly, getting closer to me. "Never have."

She's quiet for a long time, and for a moment I almost think that she went to sleep, but then she blearily opens her eyes and looks at me carefully.

"I woulda killed for this when I was ten," she says softly, sleepily. "I remember watching your Games and seeing how sweet you were with that other girl, wishing I had a Finnick Odair to comfort me. That was right when I started working in the forests, coming home too tired to walk with not enough to eat."

She yawns again and shakes her head, trying to keep herself awake.

"You were perfect, you know. Then I got to know you, and I'm kinda glad you didn't come over to District 7 and ask to marry me like I wanted. You're annoying as hell."

I stare at her because I've never heard _that _before, and I doubt that I would be hearing it now if she wasn't half sedated. Johanna had a crush on me? I try disregard the thought. It was before she knew me, even she said that. Besides, I've seen her flirt with dozens of guys, and she hasn't done that with me once.

Then I realize that I never flirted with Annie, that she's the _only _one I never flirted with.

"Johanna?" I ask, starting to get uncomfortable.

"Don't worry, Finnick," she yawns, sitting up and looking at me through half closed eyes. "You made me feel less shitty. You can run away now."

"I wasn't going to run away," I say. "I was going to ask-"

"If I still like you?" She rolls her eyes and sleepily slurs, "Nah. Like I said, you weren't the prince I expected."

There's another yawn, and then she lays her head on her pillow and closes her eyes for just a moment. Wanting to sleep, but not wanting the nightmares that come with it.

"Go back to Annie," she says. "I'll be fine here. Katniss will come back eventually."

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"Positive," she says. I get up and start out the door, but she speaks up again at the last second. "And, Finnick?"

I turn around to face her again, seeing her fighting to keep her eyes open.

"Yeah?"

A semblance of a smile crosses her pale, weary face as she says, "Thank you."

I walk back to my compartment with a small grin on my face, despite the dozens of thoughts and worries buzzing around in my head.


	42. Departure

The last few days before we go to the Capitol fly by insanely quickly. My squad only does brief morning workouts before spending hours on the shooting range. Most of our practice is done with guns, firing at Peacekeeper dummies with blood packs that burst if you hit them in their weak spots.

Everyone in the squad has blood-soaked dummies. They're all amazing shooters, to the point where I have one of the worst shots in the group.

Jackson is a somewhat sluggish middle-aged woman who manages to shoot things that no one else can even see. There are also two sisters named Leeg who we call Leeg 1 and Leeg 2, and who I can't tell apart for anything. Mitchell and Homes are the last two, both quiet, but both deadly accurate.

Even I'm impressed, after seeing numerous sets of tributes train for the Games. They're amazing to the point where I'm sure we'll be sent straight to the mansion to assassinate Snow.

Until Plutarch joins us one morning on the shooting range, that is.

"Squad Four-Five-One, you have been selected for a special mission," he begins, and for a moment, I'm certain that he is actually going to send us in to assassinate Snow. Then he continues. "We have numerous sharpshooters, but rather a dearth of camera crews. Therefore, we've handpicked the eight of you to be what we call our 'Star Squad'. You will be the on-screen faces of the invasion."

Angry muttering runs through the group, and I can't help but join in. I want to go to the Capitol to _fight_. To kill Snow. To do something other than make more freaking propaganda.

I'm tired of trying to fight this stupid war with video clips, and yet the moment I get the hope that I'm going to be able to do more, Plutarch comes and snatches that hope away.

"What you're saying is, we won't be in actual combat," snaps Gale.

"You will be in combat, but perhaps not always on the front line. If one can even isolate a front line in this type of war," says Plutarch.

I'm pretty sure that I'd be able to isolate a front line pretty well, if the idiots from the Capitol would let me anywhere near it.

"None of us wants that," I say, followed by a rumble of assent from the group. "We're going to fight."

"You're going to be as useful to the war effort as possible," Plutarch says. "And it's been decided that you are of most value on television. Just look at the effect Katniss had running around in that Mockingjay suit. Turned the whole rebellion around. Do you notice how she's the only one not complaining? It's because she understands the power of that screen."

I turn around to look at Katniss, realizing that she _hasn't_ muttered a word of complaint. I furrow my brow at her, getting more confused still when she says, 'But it's not all pretend, is it? That'd be a waste of talent."

That's not right. Katniss isn't the type who would be satisfied with doing the easiest work in the war. I know for a fact that she wants to kill Snow as much as I do.

What in the hell is she doing?

"Don't worry," Plutarch tells her. "You'll have plenty of real targets to hit. But don't get blown up. I've got enough on my plate without having to replace you. Now get to the Capitol and put on a good show."

I glare at his back as he walks away, angry at his callousness, angry at not being able to fight, but also relieved that now I have something else to reassure Annie with.

…

We ship out the next morning, and I hold on to Annie as long as possible. Tears are running down her cheeks, and my resolve weakens as I realize that I want nothing more than to stay and comfort her.

"Are you going to be okay?" I ask her, holding her as tightly as possible. She nods.

"I will be. Johanna and Delly are here to take care of me. I've always wanted to get to know Prim better, too."

I breathe a little more easily at the reminder that there are so many people to take care of her. She's going to be fine. Nothing is going to happen to her. I'll be gone for no more than a few weeks, and then Snow will be gone, and everything will be perfect.

"You know why I have to do this, don't you?" I ask again. She nods, burying her face against my chest.

"I wouldn't let you go if I didn't."

A semblance of a smile crosses my features, and I kiss her softly.

"I'm going to miss you, Annie."

"I'll miss you, too," she says. Boggs is looking at me impatiently, and Annie sees it, too, because she steps away from me. "Before you go, can you promise me one thing?"

"What's that?" I ask, missing her warmth already.

"Come home alive."

I swallow hard, wondering if I should make a promise that I might not be able to keep. Then I remember that I've been through two Games, have been in a secret rebel group for eight years. I know how to stay alive. I won't _let _myself die.

"I promise," I say emphatically. Then I jog off in the direction of the hovercraft, shouting, "I love you", over my shoulder.

Then I'm in the hovercraft, and the door is shut behind me. I press my face against the window and watch Annie's tear-stained face fade into the distance. When she fades from sight, I sigh and take a seat, leaning my head back against the window and trying not to cry myself.

The hovercraft takes us to District 12, where they've set up a temporary transportation area. A cargo car, packed to the limit with soldiers, is our home for the next two days.

There's no place to move, no place to breathe, and hardly anyone talks because they're all so nervous about going to war. Most of the days are spent sitting around and watching the rest of the crew, tying my rope, and dreaming that I was in District 4 with Annie.

That's where we're going to go when the war is over, I'm sure of it. Straight back home, no matter how little of it is left from the war.

When I close my eyes, I can almost picture Annie standing on the beach, the light breeze blowing through her hair, green eyes brimming with happiness. There would be kids, too. Lots of green-eyed kids. I'd want them to have her dark-chocolate hair curls. And her smile. A bunch of little Annie's, running around.

The thought makes the cramped train almost bearable, and a smile finds its way onto my face for a little while.

It isn't much longer before the train stops in the middle of a familiar stone tunnel, officially dumping us in the Capitol.

Thoughts of Annie are slowly replaced by those of President Snow, and when I step off of the train, a single image dominates my mind.

The president of Panem lying on the ground, dead, my trident shoved through his heart.

**A/N- Sorry, only one post today. I kind of spaced out on the earlier one. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I'll have two up again tomorrow. **

**OverTheFence asked how many chapters were left, and I think I have eight after this one, counting the epilogue. If I counted right. It's somewhere between five and nine. **

**~bballgirl32~**


	43. The Replacement

The three days after we get to the Capitol are nearly as boring as the two we spent on the cargo train. We eat and sleep in a ten-block stretch located just outside the train station that I used when coming into the Capitol, but most of our time is spent going on missions where we're required to pointlessly shoot at buildings.

There are a few times where members of our squad are chosen to go out on real missions, but Katniss, Gale, and I are never chosen. They want us to stay behind with the camera crews, so that there are always three, familiar, good-looking faces in the propos.

Basically it's all useless and boring, and I think that they're only giving us certain work so that we have something to do, so it comes as kind of a shock to everyone when Leeg 2 hits a mislabeled pod on the fourth morning.

Instead of unleashing a swarm of mutttation gnats, which is what everyone is prepared for, it shoots out hundreds of metal darts, one of which gets lodged into her brain. She dies instantly, and Plutarch promises a speedy replacement. Leeg 1 disappears into her tent the entire night and doesn't make a sound.

Leeg 2's replacement arrives the following evening. Most of us are sitting outside, passing the time with ridiculous stories about what we're going to do after we win the war, when he strolls out of the train station with no handcuffs. No guards. And a fully loaded gun.

Peeta Mellark walks over to us, seeming to ignore the whispers, and holds the back of his hand out to Boggs. I crane my neck to see that _451 _is stamped onto it, just like the rest of us.

"What the-" Gale starts, but I glare at him. Katniss looks like she's about to have a panic attack, and I don't think that she'd appreciate any comments.

After a moment's deliberation, Boggs takes away the gun and goes to make a call.

"It won't matter. The president assigned me herself. She decided the propos needed some heating up," Peeta tells the rest of us, looking around like he's worried we'll jump on him or something. Like before, he doesn't look like a Mutt. He looks like Peeta.

Boggs comes back moments later, fuming. He barks at Jackson to set up a two-person, round-the-clock guard on Peeta, then orders Katniss to walk with him.

Jackson leaves to set up the patrols, barking at me and Mitchell to keep an eye on our newest squad member. Mitchell sits down and lets his gun rest lazily in his arms, but Peeta looks so lost that I can't just ignore him.

"You hurt her, you know," I say. "Katniss, I mean."

"But she hurt me, too. Didn't she?" he asks, seeming genuinely confused. I think of Annie, asking me if having me back was a dream, or of all the times she's heard screaming or saw people coming for her and had to ask me if they were real.

I decide that right now, he's more confused than dangerous.

"I suppose Katniss hurt you, too," I say, then hesitate, not sure that I should go on, especially with Gale hovering right around the edge of the camp. I decide to keep my mouth shut.

"But you still think I should be nicer to her," says Peeta. I'm about to agree when I think of how Katniss has been treating him. That's when I realize that he isn't really the only one at fault.

"Kind of. But she hasn't been giving you a reason to treat her well, either. She doesn't think that there's any Peeta left for her to be nice to."

"Do you?" he asks worriedly. I study him carefully and try to think of my answer. All of my opinions are warped because I can't stop remembering when Annie came home from her Games and it seemed like she was completely gone. She wasn't, though. I just didn't care enough to look for her right away, and that's exactly what Katniss is doing.

Then again, Annie wasn't hijacked.

Peeta watches his hands as he waits for my answer. I want to be mad at him for what he implied the single time that we ate together, but I can't be. Something tells me that he really didn't mean it.

"I think he's in there somewhere," I finally answer. "And I know that sometimes Katniss does things that seem cruel to you, but she is a good person. She would have died for you, before this, I mean. You know that, right?"

He shakes his head and goes off to set up his tent, seemingly wanting to chew that over.

Katniss arrives back several minutes later. Her eyes immediately settle on Peeta, then keek going until they land on Jackson.

"What time is my watch?" she asks impatiently.

"I didn't put you in the rotation," she says, unsurprisingly.

"Why not?" she asks.

"I'm not sure you could really shoot Peeta, if it came to it," she says. Peeta pauses in setting up his tent to hear Katniss's response, and I watch her carefully, too, praying that she doesn't say anything stupid.

"I wouldn't be shooting Peeta," she says loudly. "He's gone. Johanna's right. It'd be just like shooting another of the Capitol's mutts."

Damnit. Peeta's hands start shaking, and his eyes squeeze shut. I inch over to him, putting a hand on his arm. He looks at me and lets his breath out in a whoosh of air.

"Well, that sort of comment isn't recommending you either," says Jackson.

"Put her in the rotation," Boggs orders.

Peeta's head jerks up, and I quickly whisper, "Calm down. She'll come around soon enough. She likes you too much to keep acting like this."

He looks skeptical, his eyes narrowing when Jackson assigns her her guard.

The dinner whistle sounds, and I force a smile.

"Come on. You're probably hungry."

Peeta's eyes land on Katniss again, angry, annoyed, and with the smallest trace of hurt.

"Okay," he says distractedly. "Let's go."

…

After a tense meal, with most of the squad giving Katniss disproving looks after her speech earlier, I continue watching Peeta. No one says anything, and after a while, I pull out my rope again for something to do, my fingers absentmindedly tying knots, now out of habit rather than necessity.

"What are you doing?" he asks after a long while.

I look up to see him lying on top of his sleeping bag, his eyes focused on my rope.

"Tying knots," I tell him. "It's relaxing."

He nods and goes back to watching the sun lower in the sky. I continue tying knots, my eyes flashing to him every few minutes. He looks terrible. Tired. Confused. Tense. And it's worse because Katniss isn't exactly helping him.

"Maybe you should try it," I say, interrupting the silence. "It might help."

I toss the rope to him, and he studies it a moment before saying, "I'm not very good at tying knots."

"That just means you have to think about it more," I tell him. "It'll be more effective."

He takes the rope in his hands and starts tying clumsy knots. I lean back and close my eyes, not worried that he's going to have an episode right at that moment. Most of the others in the squad have dragged their sleeping bags out of their tents and are starting to fall asleep only a few meters away, right in front of the warm heater, and their even breathing fills the air. Leeg 1 is sobbing somewhere in the background, breaking down over her sister's death, and for the first time in a very long time, I think about my own sister.

She's probably dead. District 4 got hit hard in the war, especially the wealthy, and there's very little chance that she survived. Thinking about that doesn't hit me as hard as I thought it would. I suppose that after losing Mags and dealing with Annie being in the Capitol for so long, the death of someone I've known for little over a year isn't quite so bad.

I suppose I've gotten used to death by now. It's a scary, sad thought, but something tells me that there are very few people whose deaths I would even blink at. Annie, obviously. Johanna and Katniss would hit me moderately hard. Haymitch, maybe. Peeta? Another maybe. And I might feel hollow for a day or so if Prim died.

As for everyone else? Well, I'd probably be dead by now if I paid too much attention to every little death. I wish that Leeg 1 knew that. It would help her. And I wouldn't have to listen to her screaming and sobbing.

"Finnick," Gale says, tearing me away from my thoughts. "You're done. Get some sleep."

I nod and leave my spot. Peeta offers to give my rope back to me, but I tell him to keep it. I don't need it anymore anyway, not with Annie safe.

After a slight mental debate on whether I should sleep in my tent, or outside by the heater, I grab my sleeping bag and position myself outside, wanting as much warmth in the chilly autumn air as possible.

It's still too cold for me to really sleep, especially since being from District 4 has kind of made me a wimp in the cold department. I stay awake, huddled in my sleeping bag, thinking of warm days at the beach with Annie, once again wishing to be back in District 4 more than anything.

I must drift off eventually, because the sound of Gale squeezing into his sleeping bag a few feet away from me wakes me up. That must mean that Katniss is on patrol.

I listen interestedly, half expecting some huge argument to break out, but it's a very long time before Peeta says, "These last couple of years must have been exhausting for you. Trying to decide whether to kill me or not. Back and forth. Back and forth."

I tense up, because that's the exact kind of thing that Katniss would overreact about, but after a slight hesitation, she says, "I never wanted to kill you. Except when I thought you were helping the Careers kill me. After that, I always thought of you as… an ally."

Gale looks in my direction, and we exchange a skeptical glance. Ally. He knows better than anyone how wrong that is, and I can't help but think that it's slightly amusing that Katniss Everdeen of all people is attempting to be diplomatic.

"Ally," says Peeta slowly. "Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancée. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally. I'll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out." There's another small pause before he admits, "The problem is, I can't tell what's real anymore, and what's made up."

Annie flies through my head again, and I close my eyes as I think of her, remember her worried questions, the times when she sees things that no one else can. I know it's not exactly like what Peeta is talking about, but it's close enough.

"Then you should ask, Peeta," I volunteer softly. "That's what Annie does."

"Ask who? Who can I trust?"

"Well, us for starts. We're your squad," says Jackson.

"You're my guards," Peeta corrects.

"That, too," says Jackson. "But you saved a lot of lives in Thirteen. It's not the kind of thing we forget."

A very long silence follows, and I'm tempted to get up and see if Peeta fell asleep when he asks Katniss, "Your favorite color… it's green?"

"That's right," she says softly. Gale releases a low sigh next to me, and I try to put myself into his position. He had to have thought that Katniss would be his now, after what happened with Peeta, and now, just by their voices, you can hear that it's starting to happen again, the thing that both of us watched in their Games. How the distrust gradually melted away until no one could doubt how much there was between them.

"And yours is orange," Katniss tells him.

"Orange?" says Peeta, seeming unconvinced.

"Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset. At least, that's what you told me once."

"Oh," he says. "Thank you."

"You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. and you always double-knot your shoelaces."

Then there's the sound of rustling fabric, and when I force myself into a sitting position to look, Katniss is gone. A hush has fallen over the entire camp, and Peeta is looking at the door of one of the tents with an amazed gleam in his eye.

Gale runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head.

"Let the Games begin?" I offer quietly in his direction.

"I'm happy that he's coming back," he whispers to me. "Really. I am."

Then he turns around and pretends to be asleep. Homes snorts from my other side.

"He's too much like Katniss. If they get married, they'll end up killing each other."

Mitchell and I both laugh, and Jackson snaps at us to get some sleep. I bury myself deeper into my sleeping bag, eventually slipping away into dreams of Annie.

**A/N- I am now completely finished with this story now, except for the epilogue, so there'll be 2-3 updates a day over the next three days, and then it should be done.**

**Once I'm finished updating this, I'll probably go back and polish up Eyes Like the Ocean since there are spots in there with terrible typos and grammar mistakes, and then I'll be done with this series forever. Wow. Thanks to everyone for sticking through this for so long. **

**~bballgirl32~ **


	44. The Beginning of the End

The next morning, Gale, Katniss, and I are ordered to shoot some glass off of a few buildings for the camera crew. When we get back to camp, the soldiers from 13 are sitting in a circle with Peeta, chatting like old friends.

"What's going on?" I ask, taking a seat between Peeta and a puffy-eyed Leeg 1.

"Soldier Jackson has come up with a game called "Real or Not Real"," says Peeta. "To help me remember."

Then Jackson explains the basics. Peeta mentions something he thinks happened, and then they tell him if it's real or not, and try to explain the answers the best that they can.

Jackson breaks us up into watches, making sure that Gale, Katniss, or me are always with Peeta at some point, so that there's always someone who at least kind of knows him there.

He only asks a few questions, all of them seeming to have astronomical significance to him by the way that he chews over each answer for minutes at a time before asking another question.

"Katniss left me to be almost killed by Cato?"

"Not real. You voluntarily saved her life, then ordered her to run away."

"I almost got my leg bitten off by one of the Mutts."

"Real. Katniss saved you by making a tourniquet, but they still had to amputate it later on."

"Katniss was in on the plan to blow up the second arena."

"Not real. She shot that arrow on pure instinct."

"You were in on the plan. That's why you saved my life those two times."

"Real. I was under orders to die for you if I needed to."

Every little detail, every part of his Games, of his life, seem to confuse him, and by the end of the day, I'm starting to wonder if it's even possible to reconstruct his memory at all. Then I figure that if Katniss is starting to try, I have no reason to give up either.

…

Boggs notifies us that we're going to be staging a complicated propo the next afternoon. Obviously no one really wants to watch us shoot at buildings, so this time, they've actually set aside an actual block for filming.

There are even a couple of real pods on it, and I'm not sure if I should be glad for the added excitement, or disgusted that they're sending us into a place where people could get killed just to get video footage. The television crew is even planning on releasing smoke bombs.

All of us are required to suit up in heavy protective gear, like we're actually going to fight, and for the first time, those of us with specialty weapons are allowed to take them with.

Even Peeta gets his gun back, even though Boggs is sure to tell him that it's only loaded with blanks.

"I'm not much of a shot anyway," Peeta shrugs, his attention focused intently on something else. I follow his gaze to one of the camera men, Pollux, I think.

Peeta stares at him for another few moments before saying, "You're an Avox, aren't you? I can tell by the way you swallow. There were two Avoxes with me in prison. Darius and Lavinia, but the guards called them the redheads. They'd been our servants in the Training Center, so they arrested them, too. I watched them being tortured to death. She was lucky. They used too much voltage and her heart stopped right off.

"It took days to finish him off. Beating, cutting off parts. They kept asking him questions, but he couldn't speak, he just made these horrible animal sounds. They didn't want information, you know. They wanted to see it."

My hands clench into fists, and I swallow hard. Peeta's eyes scan all of the shocked faces, looking like he's waiting for a reply, but I can't speak. No one can. When no one says anything, he asks, "Real or not real?" Everyone stares numbly, and he starts to get upset, demanding, "Real of not real?"

"Real," says Boggs. "At least, to the best of my knowledge… real."

"I thought so," Peeta says, sagging. "There was nothing…-shiny about it."

Then he wanders away from the group, muttering something about fingers and toes.

I try to force the images out of my head as we continue, crunching through the streets of broken glass until we reach the block we are supposed to take.

Boggs calls everyone over to him so we can examine a portable Holo projection of the street. There's a pod that's supposed to release gunfire positioned about a third of the way down the street, just above an apartment awning. We should be able to trigger that one with bullets.

There's another one at the way far end of it that releases a net to capture rebels, either for execution or questioning. This requires someone to set off a body sensor mechanism. Everyone except for Peeta volunteers, but I don't think that he really even knows what's going on. Homes gets chosen.

When all of the plans are made, Cressida gets the cameramen in place, a couple of smoke charges are set off for atmosphere, and Cressida yells, "Action."

The entire squad slowly moves forward down the hazy street, and I can't help but think how stupid this is, especially since we're doing a completely unnecessary mission that could still be considered dangerous. Then again, it's better than sitting around, so I don't complain.

Everyone blows out their section of windows, Gale taking down the real pod. We all dive away from the gunfire, taking cover in doorways or flattening themselves onto the hard paving stones.

Boggs orders us forward after it dies down, but Cressida stops us to get close-up shots. The whole squad reenacts our responses, and it's completely ridiculous. We all have absolutely fake grimaces on our faces, and the dives are so overdramatic that we're all laughing like crazy by the time that Boggs is ready to continue.

"Pull it together, Four-Five-One," he says firmly, but even he's trying to hide a smile as he checks his Holo. I turn around to start forward, but an enormous explosion has me spinning around just in time to see Boggs get his legs blown off.

Blood splatters across the bright paving stones, pooling around my feet. The squad's laughter dies in favor of screams, and real, dark smoke mixes with the charges that were released earlier.

There's another explosion from somewhere down the line, but I hardly notice. I'm trying to figure out what to do. Everyone is panicking, and Boggs is bleeding so badly that it even makes me nauseous, and I've seen a girl get her heart eaten out.

Katniss gets to him first, but he immediately orders her to go find his Holo. I eventually start over to help with him, but Homes moves in front of me and begins attempting to bandage his legs. My eyes dart around the scene until I find a member of the camera crew, Messalla, lying unconscious on the ground.

I run over and kneel next to him, quickly making sure that he has a pulse, and then doing my best to revive him, but he won't wake up.

A frustrated sigh escapes my throat, and I crane my neck to look at the others, jerking it back around when I catch a glimpse of something dark out of the corner of my eye. An enormous geyser of a black, oily substance is spouting from the street, erupting higher than the tops of buildings and creating an enormous wall of darkness.

My mind flashes back to the explosion earlier, and I curse.

"Prepare to retreat!" Jackson hollers. Retreat? I look at the wall of black, and it's immediately obvious that there's no way we can go back.

"Jackson!" I holler, getting her attention. I gesture back to the enormous geyser. "There's no way we can go back there! We need to go forward. Now!"

I scoop Messalla up into my arms and hurry over to where the rest of the group is. Gale and Leeg 1 begin blasting a path across the stones, doing a basic attempt at minesweeping, as everyone else starts following them. Homes and Katniss get a grip on Boggs and drag him forward, followed by Mitchell and… and a panicking Peeta.

I see his wild eyes and shaking hands, and rush forward, a warning on my lips as he grabs Katniss by her shoulder and yanks her into the ground. He raises his gun over his head, then slams it down to the street, missing her head only because she rolled out of the way.

Mitchell tackles Peeta and tries to pin him to the ground, but Peeta manages to get his feet under Mitchell's belly and launches him down the block.

A loud snap pieces the air, signaling the activation of another trap. Four cables, attached to tracks on the buildings, burst up through the street, dragging up the barbed net the encases Mitchell.

I'm torn between putting Messalla down to help him, or helping a struggling Pollux and Castor restrain Peeta, but before I can make my choice, a putrid smell suddenly fills the air. The wave of black has crested and begun to fall.

Leeg 1 and Gale shoot through the lock on the door of the nearest building, then turn to try to free Mitchell. Katniss helps Homes drag Boggs into the building, and Pollux and Castor follow with Peeta, Jackson trailing after them. I hesitate, watching Leeg 1 and Gale, knowing that anything they try is useless. Cressida hesitantly watches them, not knowing what to do.

"There's nothing you can do," I cough. "Don't get yourselves killed."

Then, not checking to see if they listen, I rush into the house with Messalla. Someone must follow me a moment later, because I can hear their footsteps trailing after me. I hurry through the living room and into a bright white kitchen, cringing when I hear the wave shatter the windows behind me.

I set Messalla down on the floor as Leeg 1 and Cressida stumble into the room behind me, coughing.

"Gale!" Katniss shrieks, but he's ducking into the kitchen, slamming the door behind him and choking out the word, "Fumes!"

Castor and Pollux grab towels and aprons to shove into all of the cracks around the room, and Gale retches into a bright yellow sink. Messalla starts stirring, and I kneel next to him, urging him to sit down as Katniss desperately says, "What? Boggs? Boggs?"

Behind us, someone… Peeta, starts slamming his feet into the closet door, the sound harsh and loud over everyone's ragged breathing. No one says anything as they listen to him struggle and pound, but eventually he gets tired, his kicks fading away until there's only a soft pounding on the door. Then, nothing.

The entire house goes deadly silent, and my brain is allowed to work for the first time since the initial explosion.

Three victors and a handful of rebels are on a Capitol street, no doubt lined with surveillance cameras, and we just made enough noise that I wouldn't doubt President Coin managed to hear it.

There's no way that we're safe where we are.

"He's gone?" I ask, looking at Boggs. Katniss nods, and I quickly say, "We need to get out of here. Now. We just set off a streetful of pods. You can bet they've got us on surveillance tapes."

"Count on it," says Castor. "All the streets are covered by surveillance cameras. I bet they set off the black wave manually when they saw us taping the propo."

Because we were jacking around on a Capitol street to make movies for President Coin, in a war that's already half won.

"Our radio communicators went dead almost immediately. Probably an electromagnetic pulse device. But I'll get us back to camp. Give me the Holo," says Jackson, reaching for the unit, but Katniss clutches it to her chest.

"No. Boggs gave it to me," she says. I fidget, my eyes flashing to the door, praying that they hurry up and finish this argument before Peacekeepers come and finish it for them.

"Don't be ridiculous," snaps Jackson.

"It's true," Homes says. "He transferred the prime security clearance to her while he was dying. I saw it."

"Why would he do that?" asks Jackson harshly.

I look at Katniss intently, waiting for her answer, as confused as Jackson as to why Boggs would give the Holo to a seventeen year-old girl rather than his second in command.

"Because I'm on a special mission for President Coin. I think Boggs was the only one who knew about it."

Okay, I know that there's no way that's true. Coin doesn't like Katniss any more than she likes me, and hell would freeze over before she'd give Katniss a mission with any military significance at all.

The Mockingjay is lying.

"To do what?" asks Jackson, just as doubtful as I am.

"To assassinate President Snow before the loss of life from this war makes our population unsustainable."

Suddenly, with those words, everything makes sense. How easily Katniss agreed to being a member of the Star Squad, why Boggs would give her the Holo, and why she'd lie about the reason.

She's been trying to get to Snow since the end of her first Games. Now she's finally going to get a chance at him, and I don't blame her for not wasting it.

Actually, I'm glad that she's doing this. A smirk dances across my lips, only for a moment, as I think of the look on Snow's face if he were to walk into one of his private rooms and find Katniss and I waiting for him.

"I don't believe you," accuses Jackson. "As your current commander, I order you to transfer the prime security clearance over to me."

"No," says Katniss. "That would be direct violation of President Coin's orders."

Jackson opens her mouth to speak again, and Gale raises his gun and points it at her. That seems to flip a switch, and in an instant, everyone in the squad has their guns raised, half at Katniss, half at Jackson. Mine is pointed at Jackson, and I'm about two seconds away from shooting and ending this argument so we can just leave when Cressida speaks up.

"It's true. That's why we're here. Plutarch wants it televised. He thinks if we can film the Mockingjay assassinating Snow, it will end the war."

Jackson pauses, but everyone still has their guns in the air, even if the tension has left the room momentarily.

"And why is he here?" she asks, jerking her gun in the direction of the closet.

It's not going to matter why he's here if we don't hurry up and leave, but she doesn't seem to realize that.

Cressida hastily jumps in with another answer. "Because the two post-Games interviews with Caesar Flickerman were shot in President Snow's personal quarters. Plutarch thinks Peeta may be of some use as a guide in a location we have little knowledge of."

Jackson makes a face and opens her mouth to ask another question, but thankfully Gale interrupts her.

"We have to go! I'm following Katniss. If you don't want to, head back to camp. But let's move!"

I release a relieved breath as everyone moves to get ready. Homes grabs an unconscious Peeta from the closet.

"Boggs?" asks Leeg one.

"We can't take him. He'd understand," I say. I hastily free Boggs's gun from his shoulder and toss it over my own, just incase we need an extra weapon later. "Lead on, Soldier Everdeen."

Katniss looks at the Holo confusedly before turning to Jackson and admitting, "I don't know how to use this. Boggs said you would help me. He said I could count on you."

Jackson scowls and snatches it away from Katniss, then starts explaining the situation. I fidget back and forth, knowing that we're already pushing our luck by staying here as long as we have.

Eventually Katniss says, "Put on your masks. We're going out the way we came in." Several people object, but she continues speaking over them. "If the wave was that powerful, then it may have triggered and absorbed other pods in our path."

It's soon decided that going out the front is our best bet, and we all put our masks on. Then Katniss steps forward and cautiously opens the kitchen door.

A thin layer of the black goo covers most of the hallway and into the living room. The squad makes its way through the house, and then out into street.

Everything is completely coated in the gel. It's eerie, how quickly the street went from bright and colorful to cheerless black. It's like an entirely different place, with all traces of the mine explosion wiped away. Above us, there is a ball of black where Mitchell was frozen. I can just see the tip of his fingers poking out of it.

It's sad, but I'm so used to things like that that I hardly give it a second glance.

"If anyone needs to go back, for whatever reason, now is the time. No questions asked, no hard feelings," warns Katniss one last time.

No one says anything. I don't even have to think about it. There's no way that I'm turning my back on a chance to take out Snow. Besides, it's not like turning back would do anyone a whole lot of good anyway.

Katniss starts moving into the Capitol, walking forward quickly with the knowledge that we don't have very much time.

Traveling through the first few blocks is easy. Katniss was right about its force activating all of the pods, so we don't have to worry about activating any of those. It's when the gel starts thinning at around the fifth block that the threat of pods starts becoming worrisome again. In addition, the sun is starting to set, and Messalla can hardly walk anymore.

Katniss eventually chooses an apartment to stay in towards the end of the block. Homes jimmies the lock, and she orders everyone else inside.

I hesitate for a moment before following them, tired, thoughts swarming, and praying that news of this doesn't get back to District 13.


	45. Crossing the Rubicon

We make our way through the apartment with the flashlights built into our guns, touring the place slowly and carefully until we come to come to a large sitting room upstairs.

Homes dumps Peeta on a deep-blue sofa, and everyone else plunks into the other chairs and couches that are strewn around the room.

As everyone takes the time to catch their breath, I finally let myself organize my thoughts. Boggs and Mitchell are dead. Everyone else is tearing through the Capitol on a mission that we're not supposed to be on, to assassinate President Snow.

It's jarring, going from filming a stupid propo one moment, to a real life or death situation. But I don't mind. Not really. I have an actual chance at killing Snow for the first time since my Games, and it feels good. Like I'm only days away from fulfilling what's been my purpose in life since I got that call to the Capitol that ruined everything.

A distant chain of explosions jerks me from my thoughts as the room trembles around us. Before I even have time to worry, Jackson says, "It wasn't close. A good four or five blocks away."

"Where we left Boggs," says Leeg 1.

Just then, the television flares to life and starts emitting a high-pitched beeping sound. Half of the squad jumps to their feet, but I've spent enough time in the Capitol to recognize the noise. It's an emergency broadcast, which Cressida hastily explains to the others.

I watch intently as all of us appear on screen. A voice starts explaining what's going on as it shows us trying to regroup after the bomb took out Boggs. They show the entire incident, ending with Gale trying to shoot Mitchell down from his net.

The reporter specifically points out Gale, Boggs, Peeta, Cressida, and me, but doesn't mention the others. I suppose that they don't think the names will mean anything to anyone.

Coverage continues from a courtyard behind the apartment where we took shelter. Dozens of Peacekeepers are on the roof across from it, launching shells into the row of apartments and setting off the explosions we must have heard a few minutes ago.

My stomach starts clenching painfully as I realize what they're going to think, once all of the buildings are destroyed. No one saw us get out. No one is going to expect that we escaped, especially not with the gel coating the street.

I wait, pray that it's going to end, that they're not going to say anything else about us, but then they cut to live feed, show a reporter standing on the roof with the Peacekeepers.

I bury my face in my hands when they pronounce us dead. No. Annie is going to break down. She isn't going to stand this. Those idiots in District 13 are going to say that I've been killed, that I've broken my promise, that-

"Finally, a bit of luck," says Homes.

A whimper barely escapes my throat, even though I know that he's right.

"My father. He just lost my sister and now…" says Leeg 1. I want to agree with her, but I can't speak. Instead I close my eyes and will Annie to know that I'm alive, will her to feel that I'm not dead yet. Then I force myself to turn my thoughts to the future, when I do get back with Annie, when no one will separate us. Surely they'll figure out we're alive within days. There'll be no lasting damage from this.

They keep the television on and everyone watches as they play the footage again and again and revel in the victory. Mostly it's a lot of bashing of Katniss, even going so far as to play what looks like a pre-made montage of her rise to rebel power. The entire thing is gaudy and dramatic, and I can't help but think that it's going to be embarrassing when she pops up alive again.

The reporters promise an interview with Snow later on, and then the broadcast is finished.

"So, now that we're dead, what's our next move?" asks Gale.

"Isn't it obvious?"

I turn around in surprise. No one even knew that Peeta was awake. I'm not sure how long that he's been watching, but by how terrible he looks, I'm guessing that he saw himself attack Katniss, and then throw Mitchell into the pod.

He forces himself into a sitting position, then looks at Gale and days, "Our next move… is to kill me."

Kill him. No. Even I know that that would be stupid, a waste. He's been getting better, and there's always going to be the chance that he could help us. Killing him would just involve a lot of guilt, especially because he doesn't deserve to die in the first place.

"Don't ridiculous," says Jackson, right away.

"I just murdered a member of our squad!" he shouts, starting to get upset.

"You pushed him off you. You couldn't have known he could trigger the net at that exact spot," I say, trying to calm him down.

It doesn't work.

"Who cares? He's dead, isn't he?" Peeta starts crying, and I back up a little in surprise. "I didn't know. I've never seen myself like that before. Katniss is right. I'm the monster. I'm the mutt. I'm the one Snow has turned into a weapon!"

"It's not your fault, Peeta," I say, but he doesn't listen.

"You can't take me with you. It's only a matter of time before I kill someone else. Maybe you think it's kinder to just dump me somewhere. Let me take my chances. But that's the same thing as handing me over to the Capitol. Do you think you'd be doing me a favor by sending me back to Snow?"

Everyone is silence for a moment, until Gale says, "I'll kill you before that happens. I promise."

And I'm startled, because even though it's a promise to kill him, it's the kindest thing I've seen Gale do for Peeta.

Peeta hesitates for just a moment before shaking his head. "It's no good. What if you're not there to do it? I want one of those poison pills like the rest of you have."

Nightlock, named after the berries that started the entire rebellion. There's one located in the breast pocket of every uniform. I can't help but wonder if he wants one to take incase he gets captured, or one so that he can just get rid of himself right now. With how upset he looks, I'm worried that he'd take it right away.

I look towards Katniss, ready to interfere if she offers him one, but instead she says, "It's not about you. We're on a mission. And you're necessary to it." She turns away from him and focuses on the rest of us. "Think we might find some food here?"

I relax when I see Peeta plop back down on the couch dejectedly and know that the scene is over.

We end up finding dozens of cans of food and several boxes of cookies and are just starting to drink the soup out of the cans when the television screen beeps again.

This time, they show the images of the dead, just like they did with the tributes in the arena. Then Snow himself appears, sitting at his desk, a flag draped behind him, peering out at the audience with his annoying little snake eyes. He's smiling like he just won the war.

Snow honors the Peacekeepers for 'ridding the country of the menace called the Mockingjay'. Then he goes on to predict a turning of the tide in the war since the rebels now have no one left to follow.

He says that she was nothing more than an unstable girl with a small talent with a bow and arrow. Someone who caught the nation's attention with her antics during the Games, but has never done anything more.

Just as I'm getting ready to ask why we're even bothering to watch this, Beetee must break into the connection, because suddenly President Coin is on screen.

She explains that she is the head of the rebellion (Honestly? She hasn't even left District 13), then goes on to give Katniss's eulogy, praising her for surviving the Seam and the Hunger Games, then 'turning a country of slaves into an army of freedom fighters'.

When she's finished, she looks straight into the camera with her slush-gray eyes and says, "Dead or alive, Katniss Everdeen will remain the face of this rebellion. If ever you waver in your resolve, think of the Mockingjay, and in her you will find the strength you need to rid Panem of its oppressors."

"I had no idea how much I meant to her," Katniss says, which gets me to smile and Gale to laugh, but earns her questioning looks from everyone else.

Then they show a picture of Katniss that's been photo-shopped to the point that she looks about thirty, flickering flames behind her face.

A martyr for her cause. So young. So brave. So beautiful.

It's like Coin has been waiting for her to die, just so she could milk a little bit more use out of her.

After the picture flashes for a few seconds, Snow appears back on the screen, looking extremely tense. I have a feeling that a few unfortunate techs are going to be dead because the systems were breached.

"Tomorrow morning, when we pull Katniss Everdeen's body from the ashes, we will see exactly who the Mockingjay is. A dead girl who could save no one, not even her self," he says harshly, and then the program is done.

"Except that you won't find her," I say to the empty screen. It's both a good thing and a bad thing. It will end this short grace period we've had, but it will also show Annie that I'm still alive.

"We can get a head start on them at least," says Katniss, pulling out the Holo and insisting that Jackson talk her through the basic commands of how to run it.

Everyone gathers around as Jackson shows Katniss how to type in our coordinates. I stifle a groan when the Holo projects our surroundings. The closer we get to the center of the Capitol, the denser the pods get. At some places, it looks like we couldn't manage a step without getting killed some way or another.

There's a long pause as everyone takes in the impossibility of our situation, and then Katniss says, "Any ideas?"

"Why don't we start by ruling out possibilities," I say, looking at the color-riddled map. "The street is not a possibility."

"The rooftops are just as bad as the street," says Leeg 1.

"We might have a chance to withdraw, go back the way we came. But that would mean a failed mission," says Homes.

"It was never intended for all of us to go forward. You just had the misfortune to be with me," Katniss tries, looking incredibly guilty, probably because, if I'm right, she was never assigned this mission at all.

"Well, that's a moot point. We're with you now," says Jackson. "So, we can't stay put. We can't move up. We can't move laterally. I think that leaves just one option."

"Underground," says Gale.

Katniss has the Holo show the twisting, turning mess of tunnels that are underneath us, and, sure enough, there are significantly fewer pods there. That decides it. Underground we're to go.

Messalla reveals that most rows of apartments have a vertical tube that connects them to the tunnels, and Katniss quickly finds it, two doors down. We should be able to get there by squeezing through a maintenance shaft that runs the length of the building.

When we have that figured out, Katniss says, "Okay, then. Let's make it look like we've never been here."

Everyone gets to work erasing all of the traces of our stay, throwing away cans, flipping couch cushions, and wiping traces of the black gel from the tiles. Whenever I pass a window, I take the time to peek outside, wondering if I'll ever see the sky again after we go under ground.

For whatever reason, I have a terrible feeling about this. A part of me is screaming that I should back out, find my way back to camp, get to District 13 with Annie, but I ignore it. It's just because I don't like being in confined spaces. Of course I'm going to make it back above ground. If I haven't been killed yet, there's no way I'm letting myself die this close to the end of the war.

Once everything is cleaned up, there's nothing left to do except for contend with Peeta. He refuses to move from the blue sofa, saying, "I'm not going. I'll either disclose your position or hurt someone else."

"Snow's people will find you," I say.

"Then leave me a pill. I'll only take it if I need to." That would make all of our work hiding our presence a waste of time. It would be stupid, cruel, and inconvenient. He's giving us more trouble with his complaining than he would if he would just hurry up and come with us.

"That's not an option. Come along," says Jackson.

"Or you'll what? Shoot me?" he challenges.

"We'll knock you out and drag you with us. Which will both slow us down and endanger us," says Homes.

This only frustrates Peeta more, and when he speaks again, his voice rises an octave higher than usual. I wish that he'd just calm down. It should be clear that if we haven't killed him yet, we aren't going to.

"Stop being noble! I don't care if I die!" pleads Peeta. "Katniss, please. Don't you see, I want to be out of this?"

He wants to be out of this. Peeta Mellark wants to kill himself. The thought makes me sick because Peeta has always been the good and pure one. The one who makes people smile and laugh, who's already seemed so much above the rest of the victors.

Then Snow had to go and make him just as crazy as the rest of us.

I look at Katniss, wondering what she's thinking, what she's going to do, and I can almost see her weighing every pro and con in her head. A part of me worries that she is going to let him stay, but finally, she says. "We're wasting time. Are you coming voluntarily or do we knock you out?"

Peeta buries his face in his hands for a few moments, then stands up to join us.

"Should we free his hands?" asks Leeg 1.

"No!" growls Peeta, holding his handcuffs tightly against his body like he's worried that we're going to steal them.

"No," Katniss echoes. "But I want the key."

Jackson passes it over to her, and then everyone heads to the door of the maintenance shaft.

We end up having to make a quick trip to a closet to shove the cameramen's protective shells in there since they can't fit into the narrow shaft with them on, but it's only an extra minute before we're all squeezing into the maintenance shaft. It's a tight fit, even going single file and holding our gear off to the side. We sidestep our way past the first apartment, and then Homes jimmies the lock until we burst into the second one.

Messalla quickly leads us to a door labeled 'Utility', and behind there is the entrance to the rube.

"It's why no one ever wants the center unit," Messalla says, looking distastefully at the circular cover. "Workmen coming and going whenever and no second bath. But the rents considerably cheaper."

I can't completely keep the amusement off my face. We're on the run for our lives, and he can't help but fuss over the cost of rent.

He must notice the look on my face, because he quickly says, "Never mind."

Then Katniss unlatches the tube's cover, revealing a wide ladder with rubber treads on the steps. Again, I can't help but feel like something terrible is going to happen, like I should turn back, but I quickly force the worry away with thoughts of killing Snow.

Everyone else goes in ahead of me, and I hesitate, knowing that it's my last chance to turn back.

Except I can't turn back. Not now.

My eyes greedily take in the sight of the bright room one last time, and then I begin my descent into the bowels of the city, wondering if I'm ever going to come back up.


	46. The Tunnels

We gather at the foot of the ladder to wait until our eyes adjust to the dim lighting and terrible smelling air.

I look uncomfortably back at the ladder, feeling impossibly trapped. If the Capitol were to figure out we were here, we would have absolutely no chance at escaping.

Pollux looks worse than I do, his face ghostly pale and drenched in sweat, clinging onto his brother's wrist like he might fall over at any second.

I wonder at his reaction until Castor says, "My brother worked down here after he became an Avox. Took five years before we were able to buy his way up to ground level. Didn't see the sun once."

My palms start sweating at the thought. I'm already starting to feel suffocated after two minutes in these tunnels. Five years without sunlight would kill me. And if I ever did get out, I definitely would not want to go back under.

There's an awkward silence where everyone fishes for the right thing to say, but it's a long time before Peeta turns to Pollux with some of his old humor and says, "Well, then you just became our most valuable asset."

Castor laughs, and a weak smile spreads across Pollux's face. It's just a few words, but they're enough to get us moving further into the tunnels.

As it turns out, Peeta was dead on about Pollux. There would be absolutely no way we could make it through the mess of catwalks, utility shafts, train tracks, and drainage tubes without his help. He leads us away from areas with toxic chemicals or live wires, helps us dodge working Avoxes and passing trains, and, most importantly, he keeps us out of sight of the security cameras.

Yet, despite the good time that we're making, everyone is dead exhausted after six hours of traveling. My eyes drift shut every few seconds, and eventually I start singing an old fishing song softly under my breath to keep myself awake.

Finally Katniss suggests that we rest, saying that we still have a few hours before our bodies are discovered. Thankfully, no one objects. Pollux finds us an out-of-the-way room where we can stay, but holds up his fingers to tell us that we have four hours.

The amount of time seems incredibly tiny, but I suppose that I've dealt with shorter nights during the Games. With a sigh, I curl up next to Leeg 1, resting my head on my pack and closing my eyes.

I fall asleep instantly, and it only feels like minutes later when Gale shakes me awake, telling me that it's my turn for watch.

With an exhausted groan, I pull myself into a sitting position and grip my trident loosely in my hands. The watch goes by silently, and I spend most of the time thinking about what Annie's doing.

Probably crying. Maybe with Prim or Mrs. Everdeen. Gale has a big family, too, if I remember right. Lots of siblings.

Oh well. In only a few hours, they'll know the truth. Then again, I probably shouldn't be looking forward to that. As soon as the Peacekeepers realize that there aren't any bodies to find, they're going to be after us, and I doubt that it's going to take them an extremely long time to find us.

Stifling a yawn, I send a nervous glance down the tunnels, but there's no one there. Of course there isn't. We have plenty of time.

A soft alarm goes off to signal the end of my watch, and I rouse Jackson. She sends me back to sleep, and I eagerly comply, closing my eyes and once again effortlessly slipping into unconsciousness.

This time, though, I dream. Annie is sitting on the beach, but it doesn't look like Annie. Her eyes are dull, and her usually shining dark-chocolate curls hang limply around her pale, gaunt face. Yet, there's still a small smile playing on her lips as she watches a small copper-haired boy with sea-green eyes jab at invisible enemies with a plastic trident.

A shawl drawn around her thick shoulders against the wind, Annie bites her lip and looks intently at the boy, tears forming in her eyes as she does so. I see her hands start shaking, know that she's about to have an episode. Then the boy turns around and runs over to her, grinning as he asks, "Am I like Daddy was?"

_Was. _As in I am no longer there. Dead. Gone. Apparently before he got a chance to know me.

Annie's hands quit shaking, and a tear escapes to run down her cheek as she reaches forward to gently push the boy's shaggy hair out of his eyes.

"Yes," she says, her voice sounding a million years older than I've ever heard it. "You're just like your father was."

"Don't cry, Mommy," he says, dropping his trident and throwing himself into her lap so he can wrap his arms around her neck. "It's like Peeta says. Daddy's still here. We just can't see him."

My heart breaks as Annie grabs onto the kid, onto our son, like she's hanging on for her life. I kneel down and try to reach for them, try to assure them that I'm there, that I'm never going to leave, but they can't see me and my hands go right through them.

"Annie," I say desperately. "Annie."

Then someone is shaking me, and I jolt up in surprise. Jackson is looking down at me, seeming concerned.

"Are you going to be okay, Soldier Odair?" she asks, a hint of sleep still in her voice. I grip my trident tightly in my hands, remind myself that I'm not dead yet, that there's no way I'm going to let myself die now, and nod.

"I'd better be," I say, wiping my sweat-drenched hair out of my eyes. When I look around, I see everyone else yawning and stretching, just woken up. It must be time to go.

I'm getting to my feet when Katniss holds up her hands, nervously ordering us to be quiet, hearing something that we don't.

I can just make it out when everyone falls silent, a kind of hissing noise. Except it's saying something… I listen closely, trying to figure out what in the world it is.

Then it gets slightly louder, and I can just make out a single word.

_"Katniss." _

I curse under my breath, my heart beating impossibly quickly, terror running through my veins. Snow must have had them digging through the night, and now they've found the bodies sooner than we expected. We have to go.

_"Katniss." _

My trident is up in a second, the sound impossibly close, right next to us, and I'm spinning around the room, trying to figure out where it came from, where the mutts are.

_"Katniss," _the voice whispers, and that's when I, when Katniss, when everyone realize that it's coming from a still-sleeping Peeta.

Snow must have programmed him to respond to what the mutts are saying, must have done something to his brain to make the mutt part of him come out when he hears the whispers. And even though I don't want him to die, I make no move to stop Katniss when she raises her bow to shoot him because I know that it's necessary, that he's going to attack her when he wakes up, and then-

Then Peeta is jolting awake, eyes the size of saucers, struggling to catch his breath and shouting, "Katniss! Katniss! Get out of here."

His voice isn't insane, but genuinely worried.

"Why?" asks Katniss, lowering her bow. "What's making that sound?"

"I don't know. Only that it has to kill you. Run! Get out! Go!"

Everyone starts fidgeting anxiously. I want to leave. Now. Especially after that dream, after my worries about not getting out of here. These Mutts are obviously dangerous, and I have no doubt that Snow has a ton of them. There's no way he's planning on letting us escape again, not when we've already made fools out of him.

"Whatever it is, it's after me. It might be a good idea to split up."

"But we're your guard," says Jackson.

"And your crew," adds Cressida.

"I'm not leaving you," finishes Gale. I would add that I'm not either, that I'm not going to let her make a noble sacrifice for us, but I think the point is made, and Katniss knows better than to think we have time to argue. She looks us over, ordering me to give the gun I took from Boggs to Castor, loads Peeta's with a real cartridge and hands it to Pollux. Then gives her and Gale's guns to Messalla and Cressida.

Once everyone is armed, Katniss hastily shows the camera crew how to point and pull the trigger, and then we're gone, running through the tunnels as quickly as we can.

After a few blocks, horrible, guttural screaming noises start echoing off the walls, and everyone reflexively slows down.

"Avoxes," says Peeta. "That's what Darius sounded like when they tortured him."

"The mutts must have found them," Cressida says. I put a hand on my gun, thinking of how terrible creatures would have to be to elicit that noise from anyone. My hand starts shaking.

"So they're not just after Katniss," Leeg 1 says.

"They'll probably kill anyone. It's just that they won't stop until they get to her," Gale says.

"Let me go on alone. Lead them off. I'll transfer the Holo to Jackson. The rest of you can finish the mission."

Damn. Not another argument. The screams start dying down, and I know that the mutts are moving forward.

"No one's going to agree to that!" Jackson says in exasperation.

_Annie, thin and pale, dull green eyes. A little boy who doesn't know his dead father. _

"We're wasting time!" I snap, needing them to hurry up.

"Listen," whispers Peeta, brining everyone's attention to the absence of screams, how closely the hissing is becoming. Below us as well as behind us.

We continue on again, Katniss telling Pollux to pick an alternate route that'll keep us away from the mutts. He veers off course, and the squad hurries after him. Just as we get to a flight of steps, Katniss begins gagging.

"Masks on!" orders Jackson. I listen immediately, but Katniss shakes her head as she swerves away from the steps and through another tunnel. Everyone follows after her, coming onto a smooth street where vehicles drive through to deliver supplies to the lower levels. The Transfer.

Katniss blows up one pod with an arrow, then sprints to a stop, whirling around to say something, but then another pod is activated only a few feet ahead of her. I jerk forward to pull her back in time, but Messalla keeps going, not seeing it on time to stop. A beam of golden light erupts from the ground and freezes him in place, his mouth opened into a scream as his skin melts off of his body like candle wax.

"Can't help him!" shouts Peeta, giving me a shove in the back, jerking my attention back to the mutts. "Can't!"

I sprint forward so quickly that I have to skid to a stop before a spray of gunfire erupts on us at the next intersection. My first thought is that it's a pod, but then my eyes land on a squad of white Peacekeepers running towards us. We can't move forward because there's another pod right in front of us, so we have no choice but to shoot back.

I yank out my gun and start firing, my heart thudding against my ribcage. They outnumber us two to one, but they're trying to run and fire at the same time, and we're standing still. It's almost too easy. Like shooting fish in a barrel.

Most of them are lying dead on the ground when more begin to stream in from the side of the tunnel.

Except… except they aren't Peacekeepers.

Reptilian, human-sized creatures with long tails and arched backs swarm over the Peacekeepers, taking out the ones that we haven't already. So bloodthirsty that they don't stop to discriminate between friends and enemies. Tearing off their heads and ripping them apart.

When the Peacekeepers are gone, the mutts drop onto all fours and skitter towards us, more quickly than we can move.

"This way!" shouts Katniss, sidestepping along the wall to get around the pod. When everyone is past, she fires at the ground, activating the pod and sending huge mechanical teeth bursting through the street, chewing the tiles to dust.

That would stop any normal creatures, but I have a feeling that we won't be getting rid of these mutts quite so easily. Katniss must realize this, too, because she grabs Pollux's arm and says, "Forget the mission. What's the quickest way aboveground."

Pollux leads us along the Transfer, then through a doorway. From there we crawl through a tight, foul-smelling pipe and out onto a ledge, not any more than a foot wide. Below us runs a stream of sewage and trash, some parts of the surface on fire from chemical reactions, other areas emitting clouds of vapor that are surely deadly.

That foot of ledge seems to get a heck of a lot smaller once I realize that one misstep could send someone to their death.

Yet, we're forced to hurry forward as quickly as we dare until we get to a narrow bridge. After sprinting across, Pollux stops us at a ladder and smacks it with his hand. Our way out.

Almost there.

I start to suggest that the camera crew goes first, since they'll be the slowest and least apt to defend themselves, when Katniss says, "Wait! Where are Jackson and Leeg One?"

I look back, realizing for the first time that they aren't behind us.

"They stayed at the Grinder to hold the mutts back," says Homes. I swallow, then shake off their deaths, somewhat callously. But really, they're just two out of thousands, and they gave their lives willingly. Nothing to brood over, definitely not now.

"What?" asks Katniss, starting to turn around, but Homes holds her back.

"Don't waste their lives, Katniss. It's too late for them. Look!"

He nods to the pipe, where the mutts are already slithering onto the ledge.

"Stand back!" Gale shouts, tearing off the far side of the bridge with one of his explosive arrows. It sinks into the bubbles, just as the mutts reach it.

For a moment it looks like we'll get away. The mutts rear back, bodies contorting in rage, but then one jumps in, and the others follow its example, the toxic sewage not slowing them down at all.

Everyone opens fire, shooting and shooting at the mutts, but they keep coming, even when they're riddled through with bullets. They _are _mortal, but just barely. It takes too long to kill each one, and there are too many of them. If we stay where we are, they're going to kill all of us.

"Start climbing," I shout, coughing on the scent of roses, mixed with the sewage. I realize that the smell is coming from the mutts, that they smell exactly like President Snow, some sick twist to already terrible creatures.

No one in the squad needs anything more than those two words to get them going. I glance back to make sure that they're starting to ascend the ladder, firing and firing as the mutts get closer, only twenty feet away, then ten, then-

I look over my shoulder, see that no one has been climbing the ladder for a while. "Damnit. Gale, get Katniss out of here," I snap.

There's no break for me to look and see if he listens, but I can hear him shouting at her, can hear her feet on the metal rungs above the sound of the mutts, and then Gale is going behind her, shouting for me to come, but there are mutts everywhere, surrounding me, biting at me, too close.

Suddenly three of them are on me at once, and one yanks back my head. I jerk forward, struggling, using all of my strength to get away from the grip that will surely end my life, that will take away everything. That will kill me, despite how badly I want to live, despite the dream and Annie, and my promise.

And then the creature's arms grow limp, and I manage to tear away from it, kicking it off of me and slamming my trident into another one's face as I twist my way up the ladder. When I take the time to glance down, I see Castor, still shooting, the mutt that had me in it's hands with a head full of bullets.

There's only a brief hesitation, just long enough for the sight of a mutt clawing open his neck to erase any thoughts of rescuing him, and them I'm flying up the ladder, almost running into Gale, who's shaky from a gaping neck wound.

Katniss is waiting on the platform above, and as soon as Gale and I throw ourselves off the ladder, she's choking out, "Nightlock, nightlock, nightlock", and throwing the Holo down the sewer.

Everyone hunkers back against the wall as the explosion rocks the platform, showering us with bits of blood and flesh that come shooting out of the pipe.

Six of us left, out of thirteen that started. Over half of us gone, and the mission no where near being done. Somewhere, deep down, there's a terror buzzing through me with the knowledge that I was seconds away from death, but there's too much adrenaline running through my veins to feel it too keenly.

Instead, I feel almost nothing as Katniss says, "We can't stop here."

Cressida digs through our stuff until she finds a bandage, ties it around Gale's neck, and I throw one of his arms around my shoulders, keeping him steadily on his feet.

We get ready to go, but Peeta is huddled against the wall, shaking.

I watch with detached, fragmented interest as Katniss tries to talk him out of his position, as she kisses him, and as he finally relaxes, but I hardly feel anything. My thoughts are still too flighty, and when I feel Cressida's concerned gaze on me, I see that my hands are shaking again.

I can feel where the mutt was holding me, can feel its warm breath, inches from my neck, know that even through my two Games, I've never been anywhere close to death compared to where I just was.

"Finnick?" asks Gale, looking concerned.

I shake my head.

"I'm fine. But we have to get going."

Katniss helps Peeta up and nods in agreement.

"How far to the street?" she asks Pollux. He points up, indicating that it's just above us.

I fly to the ladder, _needing _to get out of the sewers before anyone else. Once I'm to the top, I push open the lid to someone's utility room, throwing myself onto the floor and taking deep, grateful breaths.

I'm just setting my trident down beside me when a magenta-haired woman throws open the door, holding a half-eaten sausage, her expression widening in shock when she sees me.

She opens her mouth to call out to somebody, and, without hesitation, I pick up my trident and send it flying into her stomach.

**A/N- **

**And he doesn't die. I was kind of tempted to kill Gale in place of him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. But wow, rereading this part of the book, I was under the impression that Collins was bending circumstances to make Finnick die. Really, all they had to do was go up the ladder right away, and everyone would've been fine.**

**Oh, well. That's irrelevant, since in my world, he's still alive. **

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed. **

**~bballgirl32~**


	47. Tigris

There wasn't anyone else in the apartment. I don't know why she started to scream. Maybe just out of instinct. But she wasn't warning anyone of our arrival.

Maybe that should make me feel guilty, but I don't. I've known too many Capitol woman more or less just like her who I would have loved to impale with a trident. In fact, it actually kind of feels therapeutic.

"How long do you think we have before they figure out some of us could've survived?" asks Katniss once we're done looking through the apartment.

I know that I should be tired, that maybe I should want to sleep, but right now, I want nothing more than to just get this stupid mission over with so I can go back home to Annie.

"I think they could be here anytime," answers Gale. "They knew we were heading for the streets. Probably the explosion will throw them for a few minutes, then they'll start looking for our exit point."

Katniss goes to the window to look out at the street, and I follow after her, relieved to see nothing more than a bundled crowd of Capitol citizens going about their business. We're in a busy section of the Capitol, one that I recognize from my stays.

"Snow's mansion is only a few blocks away," I tell her. Then I notice that most of the squad isn't in any condition to attack Snow. Peeta is sitting on a couch with his teeth clamped down on a pillow, Gale's neck is stained red from his wound, Cressida is so pale that she looks like a ghost, and Pollux… Pollux is sobbing for his brother, the brother that saved my life…

"If we can find a safe place, we can spend a couple of days recuperating," I say hoarsely. "We'll need disguises, though."

"Let's check the closets," Katniss suggests.

Cressida and her go to check half of the apartment, and I go off by myself to look over the other half since no one else is in any condition to do it.

As I walk through the rooms, my adrenaline wears off, and I start to become terrified and exhausted. My hands keep nervously rubbing my neck, and my stomach clenches up tighter and tighter. Annie was seconds away from becoming a widow only weeks after we were married.

That reality has tears in my eyes, but I shake them off and keep searching, eventually finding an enormous selection of women's outfits. Without really thinking about it, I kneel down and grab a shoe, unlace it, and start tying knots with the string. It's not like my rope, but it helps me redirect my thoughts.

A few moments later, Katniss calls me over to announce that she found a similar room of men's clothes.

All of us quickly dress, piling on layer after layer of coats and cloaks to hide our uniforms and weapons. We tie our boots around our necks, then put on impractical Capitol shoes to replace them.

Then, comes the real challenge. Our faces. Cressida and Pollux could be recognized by acquaintances, Gale has been in enough propos to make him familiar, and Katniss, Peeta, and I are known by every person in Panem.

We quickly help each other apply thick coats of makeup, pull on wigs and sunglasses. Peeta, Katniss and I get scarves to wrap around our too-recognizable faces.

With my tall, easily-recognizable build, I'm still nervous that someone is going to recognize me from behind, especially since dozens of women are so familiar with me, but there's nothing that we can do about it, so I try to shake off the worry and start shoving food and first-aid supplies into my pockets.

Once we're finished, Katniss gathers us at the front door, orders, "Stay together", and marches us straight out the front door.

It's strange, having so many agitated people swarming around us, complaining about hunger and rebels in their high-pitched Capitol voices, especially since it has been months since I've been in a public place outside of District 13.

I like it, though. Some of their complaints are so frivolous that it's amusing, not to mention that the fresh air and visible sky help calm me down for the first time since we finished off the mutts. And even though I've despised snow since my first trip to the arena, I can't help but enjoy the feeling of the cool flakes melting on the little skin that I have exposed.

We wander through the city, passing a few more sets of apartments on our way through. At one point, three dozen Peacekeepers rush past us. We jump out of the way, just like the real Capitol citizens do, but they don't even look our way.

"Cressida," Katniss whispers nervously. "Can you think of anywhere?"

"I'm trying," she says. And I try to think so, since I'm somewhat familiar with the Capitol, but I never contacted any rebels here except for Plutarch. I know no one.

The sirens begin sounding after another block. Catching glimpses of television screens through different apartment windows, it doesn't take me long to realize that they know we're alive, and that we've all got unbelievable amounts of money on our heads.

Even though I know it's a bad thing, a small weight is lifted off my chest when I realize that Annie is going to know that I'm not dead yet, that she won't have to worry anymore.

"Cressida?" Katniss presses, seeing the more practical side of the news. Now that people know we're alive, they're going to be searching for us. It's not safe to stay in the streets for very much longer.

"There's one place. It's not ideal. But we can try it," she says. Then we trail after her a few more blocks and take a shortcut through someone's garden before coming back out onto a small back street that doesn't have anything more than a few dodgy stores.

Cressida starts babbling in a high-pitched voice about fur undergarments, how we're going to need them if we want to spend any time outside during the winter months. "Wait until you see the prices! Believe me, it's half what you pay on the avenues," she says cheerfully, then takes us to a grimy storefront filled with mannequins in furry underwear. The store looks closed, but we go in anyway, an irregular chiming announcing our entrance.

The lights are dim and flash at irregular times, and the place smells like animal pelts. I look around warily, somewhat creeped out by the racks of various animal skins, but Cressida doesn't seem half as concerned, leading us straight up to a hunched figure sitting in the back of the store.

I can't help but stare when I see the woman sitting behind the counter. It's not because she's had cosmetic surgery to the point that she's grotesque, since I've seen worse in my years 'working' in the Capitol, but it's because I have the strange feeling that I recognize her.

"Tigris," Cressida says, taking off her wig and revealing her face. "We need help.

Tigris. That's when I make the connection. She was a stylist during my Games. District 5, I think. She got booted out the year afterwards because she was considered repulsive.

"Plutarch said you could be trusted," adds Cressida.

My first thought is that she's going to wind up telling Plutarch where we are, and he's going to get pissed and yank us back to District 13 as soon as possible. Probably before we even kill Snow.

Then I realize that there probably isn't any way to get a hold of Plutarch, and even if there was, it's not like he can barge into the middle of the Capitol and get us.

But we can trust Tigris. At least I'm pretty sure we can. Snow fired her, and if the way she's currently living is any sort of indication, she probably isn't on friendly terms with him. No, resentment is going to be strong enough to keep us safe, and we're out of Plutarch's reach.

Even though Cressida said it wasn't ideal, I don't know how we could've gotten much better.

If she helps us, anyway.

Right now, she's looking back and forth between us and an old television sitting on her counter, like she's trying to place us. Katniss steps forward and takes off her wig and scarf, revealing her features.

Tigris gives a low growl, then slinks off of her stool and disappears behind a rack of fur leggings. Something makes a sliding noise, and then she's back, waving us forward.

I look to Katniss, who looks wary, but eventually she moves forward and pushes around the furs. She disappears behind them, and when it's my turn to go through, I see that Tigris has slid back a panel, revealing a steep stone stairway.

Once I descend the stairs, I see that we're in a small cellar with no doors or windows. It's cold and smells like mildew, with piles of old pelts shoved into the corners.

When everyone is down the steps, Tigris pushes the panel back into place, effectively hiding us from anyone who could enter the store.

Despite being in the center of the Capitol, I feel safe. We can get actual sleep here, and recover for a few days. Then we'll kill Snow, and I'll be able to pick up Annie, return to District 4, and live the rest of my life with her.

For the moment, though, all I really want to do is sleep. The piles of furs in the corners look unbelievably inviting, but unfortunately, sleeping isn't realistic. Gale's wound is still bleeding terribly, and he looks pale as a ghost.

Cressida and I rush to make a bed of pelts for him, then help him out of his layers of coats and weapons as Katniss coaxes clear water out of a faucet at the end of the cellar. She cleans out the wound, which looks nasty, even in the dim light of the cellar, then steps back and bites her lip.

"That's going to need stitches," she says, sounding like she's going to be sick. Cressida finds a needle and sterile thread in the first-aid supplies, but we don't have anyone to use them.

Eventually Katniss volunteers for it and puts in a clumsy row of sutures before smearing the wound with medicine and wrapping it up. Then she gives him some painkillers and leaves him to sleep.

Once that's taken care of, there's not much else to attend to, so I help Pollux and Cressida lay out more furs for us to sleep in as Katniss bandages Peeta's wrists, which are bloody from his handcuffs.

Cressida asks about setting up guard when Katniss is finished with that. After a smell hesitation, she says, "I don't honestly think there's any point in setting up a guard. Let's just try to get some sleep."

I nod numbly, more than a little relieved at her answer, then burrow into my fur nest and fall asleep within seconds.


	48. Parachutes

Once all of us are awake, sometime in the late afternoon, Cressida and I study a map of the Capitol that Gale had stuffed into one of his pockets. Even though it's filthy and ruined, it suffices. Cressida points out that we're only five blocks away from the Capitol, meaning that we could easily walk to Snow's mansion through streets filled with deactivated pods.

The problem will be what to do when we get there. The mansion will be heavily guarded, surveillance cameras on around-the-clock, and probably laced with pods that could be activated at the flick of a switch.

"What we need is to get him out in the open," says Gale. "Then one of us could pick him off."

"He's not going to appear in public anymore," I say, shaking my head. "It'd be suicidal after what I said about him."

I don't even think capturing the Mockingjay could bring Snow out of his mansion now, not with so many people who know what he did to their friends and families.

Yet, that's exactly what Katniss suggests next.

"No," says Peeta emphatically. "There are too many alternative endings to that plan. Snow might decide to keep you and torture information out of you. Or have you executed publicly without being present. Or kill you inside the mansion and display your body out front."

I can see Katniss start to protest, and I interrupt her, saying, "If we can't figure out anything else, we'll see, but for now, there has to be something less drastic."

After that, we all fall silent, trying to think of ideas. I can hear Tigris moving above us, locking the door, closing the curtains.

A minute later, she slides open the panel at the top of the stairs and tells us that she has food for us. It's the first time that I've heard her speak since we've gotten here, and somehow I'm not surprised that even her voice resembles a cat's purr. With the extreme surgery she's gotten, I doubt that practicing her speech would be out of the question.

Out in the shop, there is a hunk of stale bread, a wedge of moldy cheese, and half a bottle of mustard on the counter.

I should probably be used to eating less than appetizing food, but I'm still not thrilled with the idea of eating cheese that once had something growing on it. I've been rich my entire life, I didn't want for food in any of my Games, and even District 13 wasn't _bad. _But moldy cheese and stale bread?

I'd rather eat the cans of food that we still have left, but I'm not about to risk offending someone who could turn us over to the Capitol at any second.

Besides, once Katniss scrapes the mold off the cheese, it's not _that _terrible. As long as I focus on the news coverage instead of the dry bread and old cheese.

The government has managed to narrow down the survivors to the six of us, and are currently offering insane amounts of money for our capture.

Then they go on to emphasize how dangerous we are. There are clips of us exchanging gunfire with Peacekeepers, but conveniently managing to leave out the man-eating mutts that ripped off their heads. There's even a tragic tribute to the woman I killed, her makeup done perfectly for the cameras.

One of the newscasters speculates that she was a former lover of mine, killed out of my sadistic thirst for revenge. I snort out a laugh, glad for his comment. Now there'll be dozens of women spending the rest of the war waiting for me to come and spear them with a trident.

The thought is oddly entertaining.

Downstairs after supper, we continue to brainstorm plans, but nothing good comes up. We eventually all decide to just go to bed and wait until the morning.

I have another dream about Annie and the boy sitting on the beach in District 4.

This time, I'm with them.

...

The next day, Tigris heads out to the Capitol to spy since she's the only one of us without a bounty on their head. The day is spent sitting in the cellar and watching Katniss pace.

Eventually I take out the shoestring I snatched from that woman's closet, tying knots as best I can. When Peeta sees what I'm doing, he wordlessly hands me my rope, and I take it back gratefully, then start getting more creative with my knots then I ever did when using the rope for therapy.

"Too bad they made that too short for you to make a noose with," says Gale at one point. "I'm about ready to hang myself from boredom."

With a smirk, I tie together the end of the shoe string and my rope, then quickly fashion him a makeshift noose and toss it into his lap.

"Merry Christmas," I say, leaning my head back against the wall. "Although I think you should use it on Katniss instead. At least it would get her to stop pacing."

She's so wrapped up in her thoughts that she doesn't even hear, but everyone else laughs a little at the bad joke. Apparently they're just as bored at I am.

It's around six o'clock when Tigris finally returns. There's a little bit of shuffling upstairs, then she opens the panel, and the wonderful smell of frying meat fills the basement.

She managed to trade fur underwear for a ham and potato hash, which smells so delicious, especially after not having warm food in days, that I have trouble focusing on her speaking as I enjoy the meal.

I do manage to understand that the Peacekeepers have started breaking into houses and forcing people to shelter refugees.

A few moments later, a television program starts, detailing the same thing. A Head Peacekeepers pops up at the end of the show and says that the president himself has ordered part of his mansion readied to receive citizens. He adds that shopkeepers should also be prepared to lend their floor space if requested.

"Tigris, that could be you," says Peeta. The Head Peacekeeper continues speaking, this time talking about a young man who was beaten to death because he resembled Peeta. Henceforth, all rebel sightings are to be reported immediately to authorities, who will deal with the identification and arrest of the suspect.

Then they show a photo of the victim, and I have to groan. Other than obviously bleached curls, I've seen small animals that look more like Peeta Mellark.

"Well," I say, running a hand though my hair as I think. "We know how we can get into Snow's mansion now. We'll just have to be careful."

Katniss glances back up at the picture of the guy who was beaten to death. "Yeah," she says. "Very careful."

We spend the next half hour or so finishing the plan. We're going to slip into the crowd in three groups. First, Cressida and Pollux are going to go to act as guides. Katniss and I will follow them, intending to position ourselves among the refugees assigned to the mansion.

Peeta and Gale will trail behind them, ready to create a disturbance if needed. Gale wanted to go with Katniss and me, but it was better that someone was there to watch Peeta, and since both Katniss and I have been through two Games, everyone decided that we deserved to be the ones who killed Snow.

Basically, that's all that we have covered. Once we get into the mansion, we'll think of something else then.

I spend the night too nervous to sleep, jolting awake because of nightmares whenever I manage to catch a few minutes of rest. It's almost relieving when five o'clock finally comes and we can start our mission.

After a breakfast of canned peaches and crackers, Tigris starts working on us. We're redressed in regular clothes to hide our uniforms, and then stuck back into our coats and cloaks. She covers our boots with furry slippers, and secures our wigs with pins.

When that's finished, we're all handed knickknacks and bundles to carry so that we look exactly like the refugees fleeing the rebels.

Once our makeover is finished, Tigris peeks through the shutters for a right moment, unbolts the door, and gives Cressida and Pollux the go-ahead. "Take care," says Cressida, and then they disappear out the door.

Katniss and I will follow in a minute.

I watch as Katniss says a good-bye to Peeta and Gale, giving them both hugs before kissing Tigris on the cheek.

"Please try to keep yourselves alive," I tell the two of them sincerely.

They both give me their assurances, and then Tigris is saying, "It's time."

I take a deep breath, hesitating only a moment before I exit the shop. Outside, freezing cold snowflakes bite at the little skin I have exposed, and I huddle up in my jacket, still not used to the cold. Katniss and I look to the ground and shuffle forward, doing our best to fit in with the other refugees. It's strange, seeing Capitol citizens so hopeless and terrified, and I want to be satisfied, want to be able to think that they deserve it, but whenever I try, all that I can do is pity them.

We turn off the alley and onto one of the main avenues. A Peacekeeper orders us to the right, and when I look, I see that there are dozens of them sprinkled throughout the crowd, attempting to direct traffic.

I continue forward, then stop when Katniss nudges me and whispers, "We might need to split up. There's a girl-"

The sound of gunfire cuts her off, and several people near us slump to the ground. Screams pierce the air as another round is fired, mowing down another half dozen people.

Katniss and I both drop to the ground and crawl on our stomachs until we find a display of spike-heeled boots to take cover behind.

"Who is it? Can you see?" I ask her, craning my neck around the corner, but not able to see more than bloody Capitol citizens. I suppose that must mean it's the Rebels, but I'm not as happy about that as I should be, not when I'm watching them kill innocent people.

"They're shooting from the roof above us," Katniss says. "Trying to take out the Peacekeepers, but they're not exactly crack shots."

"That's because they use their real sharpshooters to film video clips," I mutter under my breath, then sigh. We're not in a good place. Katniss only has her bow to shoot with, and I ditched my gun in the sewer in favor of my trident. "We can't fight anyone because then we'll blow our cover."

"Right," says Katniss. "And then we can't get to Snow. We'll just have to get out of here before the whole block goes up."

Hugging the wall, we continue along the street, sprinting when we get to the next intersection. By time we reach the next block, everything is so confusing that I can't tell who's on our side and who isn't. Everything is in total chaos, Peacekeepers and Rebels firing at each other, and refugees caught in the crossfire.

We're halfway down the street when a pod is activated a dozen meters ahead of us, releasing a gush of steam that burns the skin off of everyone in its path. That unravels the little sense of order that was left, people shooting randomly, firing at anything that moves.

We move forward, screeching to a halt when a deep purple glow lights up the next block. Everyone who is on the street starts clutching their faces, and I watch on in horror as blood sprays from their eyes, noses, mouths, ears, everywhere possible. It isn't a minute before everyone is dead, and Katniss starts forward again. Gritting my teeth, I follow after her, stepping over the bodies and trying not to slip in the gore.

There are more refugees on the next block, and less soldiers. It actually seems like we'll actually get through this one with no problem when there's a loud cracking sound. I stop and look around for the pod, but I don't see anything, figure that it was something else, until I feel the ground tilting underneath me just slightly, almost like I'm on a boat.

"Run!" says Katniss, but I'm already going, feeling the paved streets slip away beneath my feet as a seam opens down the center of the block, the sides of the street folding down like flaps, dumping the people into whatever is at the bottom.

I take off in a headlong sprint for the next intersection, thinking of nothing more than Annie's command to stay alive. Going faster and faster as my feet loose purchase on the ground, and then…

Then I jump off of the flap just as it goes out from underneath me, pushing off just enough to fling me onto the street.

For a moment I'm so overcome with relief that I almost forget about Katniss, but then I realize I don't see her, that she didn't get to the end of the street. My heart plummets into my stomach before I see the hands, still holding on tightly to one of the flaps.

Hurrying, but being careful to make sure I don't fall and throw myself into whatever vile-smelling liquid is underneath, I kneel down and offer Katniss my hand, easily pulling her up to safety.

"Damn, I thought you were dead," I say, panting.

"Not yet," she says, but her hands are shaking. We stay where we are for a couple of minutes to let ourselves calm down, then continue on into the Capitol.

The end of the next intersection brings us to City Circle, and I let myself smile when I see Snow's mansion. What was normally a place of misery for me is now somewhere I cannot wait to get into.

The Circle is full of people, all waiting for someone to acknowledge them, tell them where to go or what to do. Katniss and I weave through them, to the mansion, stumbling along over abandoned bundles and citizens who have given up on standing.

We're about halfway there when I see the concrete barricade. It's no more than four feet high and forms a large rectangle in front of the mansion, almost like a fence.

"Are those-" I start to whisper, then stop speaking abruptly, remembering my distinct accent. Katniss knows what I was going to say, though, and nods her head numbly.

There are dozens, hundreds of children, from toddlers to teenagers, packed into the rectangle. At first I wonder if they're waiting to be led into the mansion, but they're just sitting there, being protected by Peacekeepers.

No, I realize with a jolt. Not being protected. They'd be in a bunker if they were being protected. They're being… guarded, forced to stay in place.

Forming a human shield.

I come to that realization just as the entire situation erupts into pandemonium. The crowd pushes me sideways, people screaming, "The rebels! The rebels!"

Katniss disappears, and I'm swallowed up by the crowd moments later, unable to see anything that's going on.

I'm forced sharply off course, and I can do nothing but go with it and hope that Katniss isn't getting trampled. A part of me knows I should be worrying about detonating pods, but the thought is suddenly pushed out of my mind when I see a hovercraft marked with a Capitol seal materialize over the barricaded children.

Something… parachutes, silver parachutes, drop down into the pen. I can't see their reactions, can't hear them over the commotion, but I can imagine the cold, starving kids eagerly grabbing what they know to be gifts, rushing to open them.

Then the hovercraft is gone. A few seconds pass, and I almost forget about it as I stumble through the crowd, not knowing where to go or what to do, half looking for Katniss and half trying to get out of the suffocating throngs of people.

Someone elbows me in the face, knocking off my scarf, and I hurry to readjust it when **_BAM! _**

The sound of explosions ring through the air, and everyone starts wailing. When I stand on the tips of my toes, I can see glimpses of bright red snow, dying children.

I'm struggling to move towards the barricade, trying to see what's going on, to help the kids, but then a herd of white uniforms rushes forward, once again pushing me to the side.

I watch in confusion as I see the rebel medics hurrying towards the children, then curse when a pair of bright blue eyes meet mine.

What in the hell is Prim doing here? She's not fourteen yet, not a soldier...

Pushing through the crowd, I try to get closer, but everyone is packed tightly, fixated by the carnage, and I can't move anywhere near the barricades.

"Can you see what's going on?" I ask a man in front of me, doing my best to try an afflicted Capitol accent. He opens his mouth to speak just as more explosions rattle the Circle.

The force takes out everyone within ten feet of the barricades, and even I'm thrown backwards, clanking my head against something hard, maybe a flag pole. I blink a couple of times and struggle to get up before I fall over and everything turns completely black.


	49. Worth It

There's something warm in my arms when I wake up. I blink several times, taking in my surroundings. I'm in a hospital, I think, my head is killing me, and, and… and Annie is in my arms.

Unable to believe it, I lean forward and kiss the back of her head. She whirls around in a second, a smile on her face so big that it has to hurt her cheeks.

"Finnick," she says, keeping her voice soft so she doesn't wake up the others in the room. "I was so worried about you. First they say you're dead, and then you're not, but then Plutarch tells me you're in the hospital, and I was so worried-"

"I hit my head," I say dazedly, unable to believe that she's here with me again, that there's no way that the Capitol last much longer after the explosions. That, most likely, the war is over, and we'll have forever. "I'll be fine."

"I know, but I was still scared," she says. There's a small pause, and then she continues, her voice hardly even a whispers, saying, "Scared that our child wasn't going to have a father."

"What?" I ask, too stunned to speak. Suddenly my aching head starts spinning with disbelief "Child?"

She nods, and I take in her happily shining eyes, how her smile managed to get even bigger, the way that she looks like everything is perfect.

It's because everything _is _perfect. I'm going to have a family with Annie Cresta, with no Games, no Snow, no nothing.

I kiss her happily and hold her even closer, knowing that there isn't another person on the entire earth that is as happy as I am at this moment.

…

Not even an hour later, someone comes to tell us that the Capitol fell, and they've captured Snow to be held for trial, which is almost certainly going to lead to his execution.

Days and weeks pass, but Plutarch keeps Annie and I in the Capitol, wanting us present for Snow's assassination. Even though neither of us particularly want to stay, we do, anyway. Since we're together, it would be a little thing to get into an argument about.

Coin is the temporary leader of Panem, although there is talk of holding an official vote sometime later on. Both Cressida and Pollux are in the districts, filming the war, but I realize that I'm going to have to track down Pollux some time and at least thank him for what his brother did for me.

Peeta is in the burn unit, with Katniss. She rushed forward to help her sister and got caught in the explosions, and then Peeta tried to help her, getting himself burned almost as badly. As for Gale, he got out of it unharmed, and is now helping to finish off one of the last pockets of Capitol resistance.

When I'm finally allowed to visit Katniss, she does nothing but blink at me, at one point crawling back under her blankets and hiding her face. They say that she doesn't talk at all anymore, because of emotional trauma.

Even once she is moved to Snow's mansion, which is where all of the high-profile rebels are staying, she doesn't pick up on her speaking habits. Haymitch is officially supposed to keep track of her and make sure she eats and takes her medicines, but both Annie and I end up helping a lot. She tends to hide in random places, disappearing for hours at a time before finally drifting back to her room.

I don't try to talk to her, not after the first few times. Whatever is going on in her head will take time to figure out, so I just make sure that she isn't hiding off in some corner all day before returning to Annie.

Then, after staying in the Mansion with her for a week, Katniss finds Annie and I reading in one of Snow's libraries and taps me on the shoulder, jerking her head in the direction of one of the doors. Wanting to _speak _to me? Alone?

"Is it okay if I talk to Katniss for a moment?" I ask Annie, taking in the frantic look in the Mockingjay's eyes. "At least, I think, talk."

Katniss nods. Yes. Talk.

"It's fine," says Annie, smiling warmly. I kiss her forehead, then head towards the door that Katniss had indicated. She follows me, and eventually we're in a wide, empty hallway.

"I need your help," she says hoarsely. I would hug her and crack some joke about her recovering her voice, but she looks so lost that I don't dare to.

"With what?" I ask concernedly, acting like she hasn't gone three weeks without saying a word.

Then she tells me about talking to Snow in the garden, about Gale and Beetee's idea, and how she doesn't think Coin above killing bombing the medics and killing her sister.

When she's finished, I step back for a moment and close my eyes, trying to make sense of something I hadn't even thought about before. The moment I try to, something sticks out, something that I should have realized before.

"Katniss," I say softly, holding a hand out to her, knowing she's not going to like what I have to say. I hate what I have to say, because it's such a waste, so stupid. But somehow, I can feel that it's true. "Snow had several bunkers prepared for him, I've heard…acquaintances talk about them. And I know him as well as anyone. If he had any chance of survival, he would have taken it, no matter what it meant for the war."

She stares at me blankly, and I take a deep breath before saying, "Katniss, if Snow had a hovercraft, he would have used it to escape."

Her hands clench into fists, and she backs up, growling something under her breath that sounds a lot like, "I'm going to kill her."

I look at her concernedly but let her go, letting what I just told her spin around and around in my head, trying to make it not true, but not able.

It was Coin. I can feel it. She's just as bad as Snow.

…

Annie and I are called to a meeting the next day, the day of Snow's execution, but no one will tell us what it's about. When we finally get there, I find us in a room with five people already sitting around a table.

Peeta, Johanna, Beetee, Haymitch, and Enobaria.

I go over to sit next to Johanna, messing up her hair as I do, an enormous grin on my face. She swats my hand away with a fierce glower, but I can tell that she's trying not to smile, too.

"I missed you, Soldier Odair," she finally says.

"Missed you, too," I say, then sit back and look around, noticing that the only people here are victors. "What's going on?"

"We don't know," says Johanna. "No one told us anything."

I make a face, but don't say anything else as I wait for something else to happen.

It isn't long before Katniss comes in, wearing her Mockingjay suit with a single arrow in her quiver. She looks at all of the faces confusedly, asking, "What's this?"

"We're not sure," Haymitch answers. "It appears to be a gathering of the remaining victors."

Remaining victors. I look around, and Katniss voices my exact thoughts when she says, "We're all that's left?"

"The price of celebrity," says Beetee. "We were targeted from both sides. The Capitol killed the victors they suspected of being rebels. The rebels killed those thought to be allied with the Capitol."

Johanna scowls at Enobaria. "So what's she doing here?"

"_She _is protected under what we call the Mockingjay Deal, wherein Katniss Everdeen agreed to support the rebels in exchange for captured victors' immunity," says Coin. My eyes fly to her as she enters behind Katniss, who suddenly looks very stiff. I catch her eye and shake my head, silently telling her not to do anything stupid, even though I'm in the mood for hitting her with some sort of sharp object myself.

Enobaria smirks at Johanna, and I have to hold back a snigger when Johanna says, "Don't look so smug. We'll kill you anyway."

"Sit down, please, Katniss," interrupts Coin, closing the door. She takes a seat on the other side of Annie, and then Coin gets right into her speech.

"I've asked you here to settle a debate. Today we will execute Snow. In the previous weeks, hundreds of his accomplices in the oppression of Panem have been tried and now await their own deaths. However, the suffering in the districts has been so extreme that these measures appear insufficient to the victims. In fact, many are calling for a complete annihilation of those who help Capitol citizenship. However, in the interest of maintaining a sustainable population, we cannot afford this."

"So, an alternative has been placed on the table. Since my colleagues and I can come to no consensus, it has been agreed that we will let the victors decide. A majority of five will approve the plan. No one may abstain from the vote. The Mockingjay's vote counts as two, as I believe she has earned that honor."

I look at her carefully, worried at what she could be getting at.

"What has been proposed is that in lieu of eliminating the entire Capitol population, we have a final, symbolic Hunger Games, using the children directly related to those who held the most power."

All of us turn to her immediately, and Annie's hand tightens around mine.

"What?" says Johanna.

"We hold another Hunger Games using Capitol Children," says Coin.

"Are you joking?" asks Peeta.

"No. I should also tell you that if we do hold the Games, it will be known it was done with your approval, although the individual breakdown of your votes will be kept secret for your own security."

"Was this Plutarch's idea?" asks Haymitch.

"It was mine," says Coin. "It seemed to balance the need for vengeance with the least lost of life. You may cast your votes."

"No!" bursts out Peeta. "I vote no, of course! We can't have another Hunger Games!"

I watch him carefully. That had been my initial reaction, but now I can't help but think of everyone who's died in the Games, what Snow did to me, how unfair it is…

But two wrongs don't make a right, and just because Snow does it doesn't mean that we should. Besides, I want the Games to be done, no matter who's in them. The Capitol children don't deserve to be tossed into the arena any more than we did.

"Why not?" Johanna snaps at Peeta's response. "It seems very fair to me. Snow even has a granddaughter. I vote yes."

"So do I," says Enobaria. "Let them have a taste of their own medicine."

"No," I say. "Enough people have died, and those kids haven't done anything wrong. We're better than the people of the Capitol were. I vote no."

Johanna glares at me, probably more for the Capitol comment than anything, but I ignore her and look at Annie as she says, "I vote no. Finnick's right. Those kids don't deserve to die."

"Of _course _Finnick's right," says Johanna waspishly. "That isn't even _fair. _She just voted no because he did."

My hands clench into fists, and I turn to Johanna angrily. "Would you just _shut up_? Just because you're jea-"

"Don't you dare, Odair," Johanna hisses over me.

"Finnick," Annie whispers. "_Please_."

I take a deep breath and scoot away from Johanna, closer to Annie.

"Thank you, Soldiers Mason and Odair," says Coin stiffly, then gestures for us to continue.

"No," says Beetee. "It would set a bad precedent. We have to stop viewing one another as enemies. At this point, unity is essential for our survival. No."

"We're down to Haymitch and Katniss," says Coin. "If Katniss votes no, then there will be no Games.

I stare at Katniss as she starts thinking, begging her to say no, to end this stupid vote, but after a long silence, she says, "I vote yes… for Prim."

"What?" I say. "Your sister wouldn't want-"

But she shoots me a look that has me shutting my mouth.

It isn't long before Haymitch says, "I'm with the Mockingjay", despite Peeta's arguments.

Coins smirks and says, "Excellent. That carries the vote. Now we really must take our places for the execution."

Annie and I are taken off to the side of the terrace in front of the president's mansion with the other victors. She holds my hand tightly, and I see that she's resolved not to look, not to see any more death.

A part of me is disappointed that it's Katniss who gets to kill him, but another part of me is relived. I've murdered enough people. I don't need to kill any more.

After a few minutes of waiting, Katniss steps onto the terrace, and then Snow is marched out. They secure his hands behind a post, and Coin nods in Katniss's direction.

She pulls back the string of her bow, and I hold onto Annie tightly as Katniss… as Katniss shifts the point of her arrow upward, straight to where President Coin is standing on the balcony.

I watch, transfixed, as the arrow lodges itself into Coin's head, and the president of Panem collapses over the side of the balcony and falls to the ground, dead.

…

Snow dies, eventually. It's not sure whether he was trampled in the commotion that followed, or if he choked to death coughing, but for whatever reason, he's dead.

Katniss is tried for murder, but eventually let off when her doctor testifies that she's a 'hopeless, shell-shocked lunatic'. Her and Haymitch are carted off to District 12.

As for Annie and I, after staying in the Capitol for another week or so to help clean up, we return to District 4, living in an unused house in Victor's Village until there are workers to build us a new one.

There aren't very many people left, and a good chunk of the district is destroyed, but I don't care.

The war is over, the idea of a final Games died with President Coin, and I'm going to have Annie forever.

Despite everything that's happened to me, for the first time in my life, I feel like it's all been worth it.


	50. Epilogue

We named our first son Castor. It was only right, we decided, after he saved my life. Ellie came two years later. Alex was last. After him, we decided that three was enough, especially when it became apparent that dealing with Castor was an adventure in of itself.

He was too much like me, unfortunately. Cocky, easy-going, and too good-looking for his own good. With Annie's dark hair and angelic smile, and my build and eyes, he had girls flocking around him from the moment he turned twelve. Of course, he said that none of them mattered, but that didn't keep him from making them think that they did. Just like I did, before my Games.

Fortunately, he didn't stop because something ruined his life, but rather because he finally found the girl that did matter. Johanna and Gale visited with their firecracker of a daughter, and the second that Castor started sweet-talking her, he found himself insulted with all of the ferocity that anyone with Mason blood had to offer.

Ellie giggled behind her napkin, and Alex and I both snorted milk out of our noses. Annie bit her lip to keep from smiling.

Then Castor excused himself with a ghost-white face and strode off to his room. Everything got quiet, and when I went to talk to him later, feeling guilty for laughing since I realized it had really bothered him, I found him grinning like a fool.

"She doesn't like me for my face," he said. Then he shrugged. "Well, she doesn't seem to like me at all, but I'll change that. Don't worry about me, Dad. I'm going to marry her some day."

I didn't believe him. He was too much of a flirt, too sure of himself, too much like me, and Katie Hawthorne was definitely no Annie.

Then he started actually doing his schoolwork. He didn't bring home a girl for the next two months. And when he convinced me to invite Johanna and Gale back, he spent an hour messing with his hair and trying to figure out what to wear, not even threatening to murder his sister when she said he was acting like a girl.

That's when I knew he was serious. Four years later, I found myself with a daughter-in-law who was nearly as terrifying as her mother.

Ellie was easier, marginally. She didn't have to worry about guys because she had a crush on the boy who lived next to us ever since she could walk, but she had all of Annie's fire with none of her soft-spoken nature. Fights between her and Castor were daily occurrences, usually ending with her stomping out of the room with her coppery hair trailing behind her, her pretty face twisted with frustration.

That temper got ten times worse when the boy she swore she was in love with decided to date another girl. And then, when he broke up with that girl, another. And another. Never giving my daughter a second look.

That kid, that stocky brown-haired neighbor boy with an infuriating smirk, made me more angry than Snow ever had. He broke her heart again and again, and when she finally decided to tell him how she felt, just incase he didn't know, he shattered it into a million little pieces.

I was very, very tempted to sit outside of his house with the trident Beetee gave me and show him what he deserved for hurting my angel, but Annie and Ellie calmed me down like only they can, and instead I ended up glaring at him whenever I saw him, sending the little coward ducking for cover.

Ellie eventually moved on. Married a skinny businessman with a father from the Capitol, and moved into the city. I still don't trust him with baby, not at all, but he hasn't done anything to earn that mistrust, so I've kept it to myself.

Alex was the easiest. Shy, quiet, unobtrusive. What you'd expect from a boy with two older siblings who think they rule the world. While Castor was flirting and Ellie was pining, Alex tended to ignore romance altogether. He got into politics instead, even to the point where he'd sit on the phone and chat with Plutarch for hours at a time.

I wasn't shocked, then, when he went almost straight to the Capitol after he graduated, to intern under Plutarch. What did surprise me was when he came back two years later with a blonde-haired girl named Grace on his arm.

She was friendly and charismatic, and looked at Alex like he was the only thing that mattered. She was perfect, and beautiful, and then Alex told me that she was Plutarch's granddaughter.

I'm still getting used to that, and they were married over a month ago. But the thing is, even though it drives me insane, I know that it's not the worst that could happen. Just like my son acting like a Casanova, or some creep breaking my daughter's heart, or having Johanna be a part of my family.

It could always get worse.

Actually, sitting outside of my house with Annie by my side, I'm not sure how it could get any better. Even after twenty five years, I still love her more than anything, and I can't stop being thankful for everything that has happened to us, the good, the bad, and the worse-than-imaginable.

Because, as Peeta still jokes, if you put enough pressure on coal, it turns into pearls.

And now, all the coal that was dumped on me is gone, replaced by tens of thousands of pearls that make everything I went through worth while.

The End

**A/N- Not much to say, surprisingly. Maybe I'm still in shock that this entire series is completely finished. That's like a year long story, done.**

**I don't think I'll be doing any other Hunger Games fics anytime soon, even though one-shots aren't out of the question. And, I suppose that that's all I really have to say. Thanks to all of the amazing people who have read and reviewed this entire series, and I hope that you enjoyed it.**

**~bballgirl32~**


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